The Wednesday fugue or funk
whichever one,
I sink or I'm sunk
jeeps
this time on any day is enough to give a sensitive soul the creeps and as time moves forward it presses me to move with it when all I want to do is remember it's Wednesday and to keep feeling blue, but I'll snap out of it, catapult on into the day that always seems so blasted long.

Is work killing you?
if not why not
everything else is.