It's a Monday sort of day.

I laughed with my fellow dancers this evening about how last week I came home anticipating the luxury of a hot shower and got doused with ice water.
We chortled. We guffawed.
We sympathized.

Apparently, my condo hates Mondays.

There is no hot water this evening kids.
Again.

Last week I nearly shrieked; surprised.
This week I nearly cried; incredulous.

If this happens again next week, I might go into hysterics.