Mondays are the most mundane of all days. I try my best to soften the reality blow, plan as little as possible and even treat myself to weekend mimicking moments, but the truth always sits atop your worries and thoughts. The pressure of accomplishing and knowing the expectations of the week. Should I or shouldn’t I juice fast? Does two hours at the gym wipe away Sunday’s sins? How many emails are shouting for responsible girl responses? I think responsible me is often so fake. I’ll always be the girl that craves staying as long as possible in bed, refuses to understand the simple math behind calorie counting, and avoids daunting tasks with a truly believable feigned ignorance. Hope your mind is swirling a little less than mine today.