Monday Blues...

It is in these quiet moments of the day, just before the dawn, that I can sit down for a while and gather my thoughts about the previous day's happening. These dark quiet moments of absolute silence help me concentrate on what I want to say, and more importantly, how to convey my feelings.

Monday has always been a day I hated ever since I was a kid. Going back to school when I was a kid, and now going to work following a weekend has never been too appealing to me. I guess this happens to most people.

So it is Monday and I am nursing a large cup of coffee, while sitting in my balcony, just before the big red panic button is depressed, waking up the angry traffic that buzzes just beyond the tree-line avenue I inhabit, and thinking about the last two days of quiet.

The weekend wasn't too bad really. It was a case of resting properly on Friday, and enjoying the Saturday morning, what with a few house-hold DIY jobs to do, and of course helping my little Rox with her homework. The early hours slipped by quickly enough and soon the little and big hands on the clock were pointing to the time that to me means a well welcome period. Band practice.

A late emergency in the band has caused us no little harm , both psychologically, and of course, in a practical way. I am really disappointed in what happened, since we were on such a roll, what with shows coming up, preparing for a charity concert, promoting our new album and all...so to have everything plucked out from beneath you is nothing short of dismal.

No amount of pleading could sway our erstwhile drummer from suddenly calling it quits. So, okay...you've got no drummer, and suddenly the phone rings.

Ah..it's the Hard Rock Cafe promoter. Oh, ok, I guess it's just a call to inform us when we would play the next gig. But...to my horror I realise that we had just been told that we finished just 0.8 points from the final qualifier.

This is bad.

Alright, maybe (but just about) we weren't the best band, but three of the bands occupying the space above us were terrible to say the least. I simply could not believe the lack of experience and originality. And to make matters worse, I went to see these bands and noticed that the judges were different from the ones who were passing their criticism on us. Needless to say they were more generous with their marks, otherwise the bands I mentioned would not be above us.

The guys in the band just shrugged and said that this was normal in our country, and to be taken with a pinch of salt. Hell. I don't want to take this with a pinch of cow droppings, let alone salt. Two weeks back I had to draw attention to the HRC that they were adding up the votes incorrectly, and now they expect me to take this lying down. Changing judges is simply not within the confines of the contract. But then... we are without a drummer.

Right.

Time to shut up then.

Sunday was a good day, a nice quiet relaxing time, watching a couple of movies with the wife, relaxing with a good book...aah the simple pleasures of life...and then thoroughly having my nerves destroyed in the evening as the Brasilian Formula1 Grand Prix brought the racing season to a close. A tightly fought affair, with both McLaren drivers making use of officially illegal machines, the championship was finally won by my favourite Ferrari driver.


This meant so much to me...I just love motor racing. My kids were amazed at the outpur of emotion I showed. Later on in the night there was the Juve match in which my heroes battled away to a single goal victory over plucky Genoa. Del Piero got that, so I am really happy for the guy.

The church bells suddenly bring me out of my musings as they peal out their call to the faithful and I realise that it is already half past six.

I swirl the dregs of coffee left in the mug, take a last sip, and finding no solace, get dressed for work...