My Monday Shirt

It's Monday. The 'best looking' day for me. I have a Monday shirt, a shirt that I wear every Monday. It's a nice formal wear that renders me as a decent man. Ironed to perfection, it mystifies me with the sweet perfume it wears. I am at my uncluttered best on this day. Beard shaved; Hair properly greased; shoes polished.

But today is different. I couldn't do justice to the shirt today. I am least bothered abt. my shoes and the perfume doesn't has that aroma. I feel miserable today. Misery that blames Sunday for its existence.

I went out with couple of friends. It is one of my favorite places in Pune. Place where I find solace listening to quality rock music and jerking my head. I am not that much into drinking but somehow the beer compliments the music there. I am normally happy having a mug or two with my pals.

But yesterday was different. I had three large vodkas and a mug of a terrible mix of vodka, beer and rum. It was too much to handle. The long hours that we spent their ensured that we disregard last of our senses. Towards the end, the alcohol was taking over otherwise level minds. One sucker lighted the cigarette only to find out that he burned the part which he has to suck; other was happily announcing being hit on by a gay. And I was banging my head to a number that would classify as utter noise pollution.

Somehow we were able to find our way back home and to our beds. But, the alcohol was so much that it didn't strip fully over the night.

I could barely wake up in the morning. And my head felt that the music is still playing. Every breath that I took reminded me of my stupidity. My legs felt weak for no good reason.

If I have to write three mistakes of my life; this would be numero uno: Getting drunk on a Sunday.

Sickness empowered my will to shave and dress properly. I didn't feel like eating the whole day.

And I am just waiting for this day and this guilt to end.

I am sorry my Monday shirt, I won't let you down the next time.