Seems like every day is Monday. Weeks are just flying by. Did you know it was 2007 already? The Space Year 2007AD? Whoever thought we'd really be living in the 2000s?
And where the hell are my silver jumpsuits? My flying cars? My robot butlers? Eh? Eh? What the hell went wrong?
No, it's 2007 and I'm just going to work like people did back in 1977. Or 1937. Or 1877. Except that last group of people are now dead. Too many Mondays can be fatal. Each Monday brings you one week closer to death.
There's a cheery thought for a Monday morning.