Tell me why I don't like Mondays

Listening to: Concrete Blonde-Bloodletting

I was sick of a lot of things on Monday night. Monday was fine until I got to work. I slept in, hung out with the divine Mrs H, and chilled out. Then I got to work for evening shift. I think I jinxed it by asking one of my co-workers at handover what calamities had befallen us today. EVERY DAMN ONE of my regular tasks had something wrong with it that required extra attention. And then there were the irregular spill over from day shift tasks, that also amazingly, had things wrong with them that required more time and attention.
I wasn't actually that wound up when I skipped out for an extended lunch/dinner break to play netball. The stressful "am I gonna get there on time or not" drive, and our opposition who spent as much time showing off as playing sort of tipped me over the edge. I gladly let also late Ken have another quarter instead of me; I was pleased to be leaving the court. My team was ok, I just knew that I was getting too frustrated with my own game not even getting out of first gear (getting slapped in the eye because of clumsy opposition defence didn't help) and it was inevitably going to end badly, either at the hands of the opposition or umpire. I'm getting better at not being a grumpy player, but I still haven't got the bountiful well of calm thing going for me yet.
Back at work, everything just got worse. I think the single worst thing was going to use a small but important piece of equipment just after midnight and finding it missing. It had been taken a away for a routine service I later found out. Without checking if it was needed for use. Or telling the people who would be using it. Or providing a backup. A lot of swearing and throwing of unbreakable objects at other unbreakable objects was done. By the time I finished after a 12 hour shift at 0245 I was wrung out in every way.
So much so that I called in sick yesterday on grounds of exhaustion (Fi will testify to this, and if your wife thinks you should call in sick, there is probably something to it). Actually, in my job if we feel too tired or otherwise unfit, the onus is on us to pull the plug, primarily for safety reasons. There are lots of ways for sloppy people to hurt themselves at my work.
So instead of going to work I gave blood (filling the bag in under four minutes, which is quick for me. I have taken as long as fifteen to fill a bag, but usually average 5-10), went to Talladega Nights with the Hutt crew (Okay movie. Makes NASCAR look interesting, which is no mean feat. Quite funny too, even if some of the best lines are outtakes over the credits ("98% of people will die at some point in their lives") I prefer watching Formula One. That oval track stuff bores me stupid. Says a lot about the must be entertained psyche though), and watched Fi play netball.

Shiny thing though. During my day off, the rest of the weeks schedule was canned for technical reasons, so work tonight was blissfully unpressurised.