On the first day...I was hung over. After a weekend of binges. "Let there be no light", I say as the curtain is drawn in my room. "You are late for work!!", I'm told, by my seriously concerned old man. No amount of coffee can help me get started at work. So I spend the day playing Solitaire.
On the second day...There was no water in the loo. Annual water problems every summer. The water tanker is stuck in the rush hour traffic. "Let there be rains, so I have a valid reason to walk in late", I say. There are no rains. But then I'm flooded with work when I reach office at half past noon. Surely, I cant be expected to finish it all. Let me just sign in to Facebook.
On the third day... I'm woken up by vibrations. Phone is under the pillow, again. "What on earth is the matter?", I bark. "Meeting at 12. And it's a two-hour drive. We have to leave immediately", I'm told. Stuck in the traffic. We push the meeting by an hour. The client rushes off for another meeting. we wait for another two hours. For a three-hour meeting. On how we can be more productive with our deliverables. Hell. With all these meetings, when does one work?!
On the fourth day...I reach the work-in-progress meeting on time, but I have no idea what's happening. As always, I'm kept in the dark. It took me the whole day to figure that there has been no progress at work. Shucks! And it's Thursday already.
On the fifth day...the office is teeming with managers who are never seen during the week. "Too much work for one day", I crib. "Cant work on a Friday evening", I decide. And I go out for drinks.
On the sixth day...I head off to work. At a time the world is lazying around in bed. "It's Saturday Morning!!", I cry out loud. "It better be fruitful", I'm warned. The amount of work multiplies, and fills the desk, with me subdued by it. After a long day, I'm done for the week. Well, only just. I see the amount of work completed after a week's labour, and I say to myself "Very Good". And I go out drinking.
On the seventh day...I spend the day in bed. Watching Season Three of Friends. For the fifth time. And I saw that it's good. Still. Maybe the next week will get a little interesting. With such wishful thinking, I go out drinking.