treat the tin dog right

You know it's a Monday when the bus driver turns around and asks us where we're meant to be going, exactly. [head in hands].

Actual bus driver or some mental patient just taking the bus out for a spin? To be honest, I'd never be able to tell.

My weekend wasn't much of an improvement on that. It wasn't like I didn't know better: don't drive, don't operate heavy machinery, don't go anywhere near a computer and don't attempt any housework, like, say, the washing.
( more: only Much has days like these )