Some Mondays are more Mondays than others.

It started at 2:30A with some loud warbling from the brooder condo.  Remember what I said about the sweet, dulcet tones of the new Nuggets?  Well, I LIED.  My getting up early starts the domino effect - The Pepperoni is first up because he is at the foot of my bed, covered in fleece blankets.  I get the little, cloudy Stink Eye when I approach him.  Much prolonged stretching and Stink-Eyeing goes on before I can scoot him out of the door and into the living room.  Lovey is up next with more stretching but no Stink Eye.  She is a happy girl and glad to see me no matter what time it is.  The Sweet Potato is still slumbering on the sofa.  That stretching is very prolonged, with the slow dragging of 'seal legs' off the sofa.  The last to get into the act is the cat, who is like a fat piece of Velcro.


All three shot out the door in pursuit of...?  The coffee was turned on and I went to check on the Nuggets.  Who were, of course, quietly burbling by this point.  At least I got more knitting done on the triangle Caron Cake shawl.  Things seemed to be progressing well (that should ALWAYS be a sign that the Universe is waiting with the other shoe in hand) and I managed to get my chores done with a whole extra half hour to shower, change and get on the road.  I might even be - *gasp* - early. 


Except for the fact that, when I walked out of my front door, I was confronted by my neighbor's Black Angus bull in the middle of my front yard, eyeing my raised beds.  The llama was in full alert, two fat sheep squeezed in behind her, trying to disappear.  The dogs were barking their heads off.  I inched towards my car, put everything on the front seat and, armed with a windshield ice scraper, went to move him along towards home.  This did not go as hoped, although I did get him, begrudgingly, to move to my side yard.  When he started snorting at me, I decided that I needed something a little larger to even out the odds, so I got in my car and slowly herded him towards home with the Hyundai.  We got to the road and he balked.  I figured he was at least headed in the right direction, so I headed up the mountain, now very late, calling my dairy farmer neighbor to alert him - left a message with the asshat neighbor who cannot seem to keep his bull, cows or screaming grandson within the boundaries of his property, fed the barn cats and raced towards work.


Only to get behind a small compact car going 20 miles an hour (10 on curves - of which there are many) on the mountain road - apparently driven by a midget raisin with white hair and severely challenged driving skills.  Where I stayed for almost 15 miles, until I could reach a stretch with enough visibility that I wouldn't risk driving head-on into another vehicle.  I called the state police to report her when I got to the light that brings me off the mountain and into suburbia.  Even though I was sorely tempted - about every two miles - to just say 'the hell with it!' and speed around her, I have too many dependents to take those chances.  I was afraid that there were many others who wouldn't care.


Things were finally going swimmingly, until I got behind a) an oil truck, b) two school buses, c) a gravel truck, and d) the Raisin's cousin in an old pick-up.  By the time I pulled into the office building's parking lot, I had  managed to reach a Zen-like state.  Most likely caused by the excessive amount of deep breathing that had preceded my arrival.