Sunday night is the worst. After drinking far too much on Saturday night, you spend the majority of Sunday realizing: you're not nearly as young as you used to be and can't bounce back and start drinking again for at least two weeks, you turn into your 18 year old self when you drink hard liquor (read: crying and dramatic=not cool), you've wasted an entire day being too lazy to change the channel so you've wound up basically watching Golf and Nascar and yet content to do nothing at all. But after spending all day doing nothing and reveling in being lazy and happy it dawns on you how much it sucks that you have to get up and go to work tomorrow and have to be an ADULT. Who decided on the five-day work week? The 8 hour day that starts at 9? When was all this decided? And who then thought it would be a good idea to start screwing with that and making it 8:30-5:30 to make up for the lunch hour? Ugh, and then you have the people that are up at like 4:30 in the morning and are chipper without coffee and stroll over to your desk and are like: "This weekend I resided my house, put in new floors, ran a mini marathon and cooked for the homeless. And this morning, I got up, worked out for like an hour and a half, reorganized my files, set up three meetings, finished a presentation and ate some really delicious oatmeal. Why do you look so tired?" And I can't even function prior to coffee and this person is right in my face and I am now contemplating how I can accidently on purpose spill said coffee on them so that they just stop being so damn perky and energetic and productive. I really hate Sunday nights.