Default Weekly Calendar

Peytchuki, with childlike sense of wonder, usually spends her week with these:

On Mondays

bangs head in the office table, for 2 days of off-work did not spare her from yet another week of exasperation and vexation,

or better yet, spends the day with a lonely bottle of beer. Or two. Or even a bucket. Or two.

On Tuesdays

looks forward to surveying the world in free-form, amidst the obsessive-compulsive thirst for order and structure,

or better yet, spends the day with a lonely bottle of beer. Or two. Or even a bucket. Or two.

On Wednesdays

performs as a battery-operated lackey; and hopes, that in this passivity, shall soon seek freedom,

or better yet, spends the day with a lonely bottle of beer. Or two. Or even a bucket. Or two.

On Thursdays

enlists for a complimentary psycho-surgery, turns into a zombie, and wanders aimlessly, imploring to the earth that it should now call on to the heavens,

or better yet, spends the day with a lonely bottle of beer. Or two. Or even a bucket. Or two.

On Fridays

by-standers must seek refuge from impending outpour of internal organs, for she is on the verge of another self-loathing,

or better yet, spends the day with a lonely bottle of beer. Or two. Or even a bucket. Or two.

On Saturdays

slouches lazily on wherever her ass may get her, while dipping homemade cookies into a glass of fresh milk, just right to jumpstart one slothful weekend afternoon,

or better yet, spends the day with a lonely bottle of beer nursing an intense hangover, mumbling every profanity known to mankind.

On Sundays

carefully plans a week-long playlist that will perfectly go with the forthcoming seven-bordering-on-hell-days, with as much as necessary knowledge that the absolute perfect songs are yet to be recorded,

or better yet, spends the day with a lonely bottle of beer. Or two. Or even a bucket. Or two.