Monday

“During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens.”

Edgar Allan Poe opens up The Fall of the House of Usher in a way that is strikingly appropriate of this particular Monday morning.

Gloomy, dark, cold, and wet. 

As Garfield would say, “I hate Mondays.”

Again Poe puts it quite appropriately:   “I know not how it was - but, with the first glimpse of the building [in this case the College], a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible.” 

Oh how I wish I could have slept in this morning!

If the sun would grant the earth with but a whisper of sunshine, it would give me hope for a finer day.