The sun beams through the blinds to herald day:
The clock has rung, so spring from your repose,
And last night’s dreams leave nestled where you lay.
The floor’s not half so cold as you suppose!
The shower’s going: let the water warm,
And scrape your whiskers till the mirror steams.
Then hop into the bath, to brave the storm
That’s pelting out the shower-head in streams.
Get dry! Get dressed! Get with it, or you’re late!
Your cereal spoon quickly from your bowl!
Don’t take the time to taste the food you ate:
Get in your car, and then get set to roll!
  Now turn the key, and gun the engine; streak
  To work; begin the labor of the week!

Wednesday Afternoon

You’ve hit the nadir of your happiness,
As far from this week’s birth as its demise:
The time between exceeds in emptiness
All periods equivalent in size.
The purpose that you bore in starting out
Was bored to death by boredom in-between,
And though for some rebirth of will you scout,
The days through which you search it out look lean.
You know the way each ending week renews
The wont to work on work which now you won’t,
But that won’t work until you’ve paid your dues
To mid-week doldrums, which should die, but don’t.
  You’ll muddle on in ennui every hour,
  Until the might of Wednesday loses power.

Friday Evening

The time’s at hand to turn computers off,
And set your desk in order for the night.
Your work-a-day persona you can doff:
The week-end lies ahead to set you right.
Turn out the lights, and lock the door: you’re past
The hustle-bustle you have borne all week.
The never-ending chores are done at last,
So let them go, and recreation seek.
You’ve two whole days of liberty, for fun,
But though they may look long, their flight is swift:
Plan ill, and they’ll slide past ere half begun,
And you’ll be left dissatisfied, and miffed.
  Fill well your time: too quickly, you’ll discern,
  Next Monday, and the work week, will return.