Grey Monday

Well, it was another long and tiring day at work. A Monday, which began dark, dreary, and wet, without a sunrise to light the way. While busy filling shelves and checking up on items misplaced or reported out-of-stock, I completely missed the main excitement of the day, which involved fire and danger of explosion and fire trucks. How sad! I would have enjoyed something as interesting as a burning car in the parking lot and a subsequent dousing of said car by a pumper truck.
I watched two strangely dressed young women pick out Sharpie markers for whatever project they had on the go. I decided that they either belonged to a strange monkish cult or working for a Heritage Canada place acting out people who belong to a strange monkish cult. They were wearing maroon and yellow robes to the floor, covered in ornamental beading and tied at the waist with a metal chain. Their hair was exactly the same length and was done in exactly the same way, brushed back very tight with clips on the side. They received my vote for the interesting part of the 11 o'clock hour.
I had a long conversation with a elderly Swedish woman today, if it can be called a conversation when she talked for most of the full twenty minutes at the pace of an auctioneer, hardly letting me get a word in edgewise. She complained of the poor treatment of senior citizens by the Canadian government and the isolation she feels living in Canada. When I told her that a church community does a lot to bring more meaning to life, she told me she left the church because it was full of hypocrites and disrespectful people, and wanted nothing to do with any further church conversation.
My replacement did not come at 5:00 as scheduled, but arrived late enough (5:35) to give me ample time to discover and report the theft of a number of high ticket items, which had been stolen and their packaging dumped amongst the file folders in the nether regions of aisle two, which apparently is the favorite dumping ground for thieves. Sometimes, people are disgusting.
Tonight, I broke a beautiful champagne flute, a wedding present from one of my brand new sisters. This did not make me happy at all.
I have 900 pages left in my book, so I think I'll wear some cozy clothes and curl up in a comfy chair and read till its bedtime.