Bad Monday

Monday comes and the work alarm runs circles in my ear.
I could swear the weekend stayed around no longer than a day.
It's almost 7 and by 8 I must eat, shave and shower,
then brew a cup of wake up juice and drive that bloody hour.

When nature calls, as it does, it can leave you in delay.
The schedule's screwed and thanks to poop, a coffee, I can't make.
At least I'm making decent time, well maybe a little late,
but the boss won't mind if I grab an extra on the way.

The cafe close to work ain't bad, I've ordered there before
and the barista is a pretty thing, worth the morning talk.
I wait my turn to find that on this day she isn't in,
"but the new guy's pretty good!", I'm told, "so why not get a drink?"

A Cap for me, Latte for boss and why not, a pack of chips,
because sometimes when lunch time comes, I can't be stuffed to eat.
There they are, he brings them out, this gent is pretty quick!
I take my long awaited sip to find it tastes like sh*t.