Where, oh, where did the weekend go? It seems like I was sitting right here Friday night feeling great about having two days off then blinked and found myself in my bed this morning groaning about having to get out of it and stagger toward the shower like a new-born giraffe. Although it’s just a morning like any other, there is something mysteriously traumatic about a Monday morning. But once I’m dressed, have exorcised the morning earworm, and get a lung-full of fresh air (like my serial comma Laurie B?) I feel fine. I try to keep in mind that Monday through Friday fly by just as fast as Saturday and Sunday do.