The Federal Holiday Blues

(the sound of a blues harmonica pierces the dreary morning, wailing and crying, up and down)

Post office is closed up
(ba da da dum)
And tha gov-a-men’ too
(ba da da dum)
But here I am at work
And my boss don’ have a clue!

‘Cause it’s a Federal Holiday, baby
Why you make me work all day?
(wha waaaa wha waaa wha waaaa wha waaaaaaa)
You bettah, you bettah treat me like da postman, honey,
The day off! With pay!
(wha dee dee wha dee dee wha dee dee dum….bum…bah!)


Yesh. Sitting at my desk. Trying to look like I’m working, but knowing full well that Sergei and the kidlets are eating breakfast, petting the cat, still in jammies, making plans for a trip to the mall, some Playstation, and a new computer game. All cozy and lazy and sunny.

And I’m dealing with stupid marketing folks, with that Schoolhouse Rock song “The Great American Melting Pot” in my head, and a cuppa decaf tea to wake me up. Oh, the Deadlines! Oh the Pressure! Oh, the stinky overnight computer operator!

WAAAAAH!

What are YOU doing today?

(And Happy Birthday, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr!)