Monday's coming up...

Oh fuck it. Monday's coming up. There are times I feel that Mondays aren't all that bad, and I ask myself what all the fuss is actually about. But this term, Mondays are absolutely atrocious. All day, I'm stuck in lectures I don't have the slightest interest in, and somehow, the prospect of yet another work-filled autumn week isn't appealing to the slightest.
No, there isn't anything to look forward to next week. For a while, it seemed that at least I would make it to the Slayer gig on Wednesday, but my wallet just laughed at me.
I'm really trying to find something positive about next week, but the only thing that at least gives me a hint of comfort is the thought of getting pissed on Friday night to forget about the ordeal of the past five days.
To give you, dear reader (if you even exist) an example, tomorrow is that awful lecture I share with Terrabyte, whom I have spoken of a few posts ago. Last week, I watched him open his briefcase -indeed, he does not carry his stuff in a bag like everybody else, but a fucking briefcase!- to take out his pens, and I saw that it was full of plastic bags and -catch this!- underwear. Indeed, last week I was the third person to join the exclusive club of people who saw Terrabyte's underwear (the other two being Terrabyte himself and his mother). I fucking hate my life.

I'm going to write a retrospect of the coming week on Friday. If I have anything positive to report about it, please post a comment (you don't have to write more than just an asterisk or anything like that), and I'll have a pint (or shot) on each of you. Yes, you got that right: I'm already planning my Friday night breakdown one week in advance.