But it's Monday.
That means something has to go terribly wrong. Otherwise the rest of the week will suffer. Monday must make the sacrifice so the rest of the week will be good.
So yes, I walked in, the sun is shining, I have my flowers and my tasks all ready to go.
But something has to go wrong.
So it did.
There is an indentifiable, loud, high pitched squeal floating through the suite sounding like a tea kettle on steroids.
Kill me now.
Update: Now that the facilities manager has been called, it has stopped. It will stay stopped until he comes to our office start up again 15 minutes after he leaves.