You’re gonna make it after all.
Monday mornings since the time change kick my posterior.
There was so much I wanted to accomplish this morning but I got up late — pressing snooze on the alarm for an hour. All morning I felt two, three steps behind. Sluggishly making my bed, a mental flog-fest ruminated in my brain.
How could I start another week feeling down-in-the-mouth and mind?
Then from whence it came from I don’t know . . . the strains of “you’re gonna make it after all” began muscling away at my negatives thoughts.
You know — any of you born early enough to appreciate 1970s network television.
Mary Richards and her hip apartment in Minneapolis. Her job at WJM-TV. Something always going wrong and Mr. Grant getting mad. But not really mad. Rhoda her bestie.
With goofiness and gumption, everything always worked out for Mary.
Have you ever seen this?
I’ve never loved Oprah any more than this clip of her talking about her adoration of Mary Tyler Moore. Watch till she is surprised by Mary around 2:40.
You can’t be a little girl who grew up watching Mary Richards and not love this.
Or be a midlife woman and not have a listing Monday suddenly righted.
