Karen Carpenter sang it “Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.” And if they occur together like today, a rainy dreary Monday, down doesn’t even begin to describe the mood.

First, you are lying in your bed when the alarm goes off.  That’s bad enough and then you hear the rain. Even the dog, always anxious to get up and out, doesn’t move. Even he knows the day is bad. You flip on the TV and by 6:15 am, the traffic reporter is showing a map already covered with accidents. Maybe in Washington State people can drive in the rain, but not here in Washington, DC. People here either drive way too fast for the conditions or way too slow.  Either one is bad.

As usual, I was  taking the Metro to work this morning. One accident on the way to the station, causing a 10 minute delay. Mild in comparison to the delays I hear on the radio. I get to the station and the platform is totally full. Not normal since I get on at the end of the line and there’s usually not that kind of crowd. I begin to anticipate a bad commute. But when the train comes all seems fine.

Then, about halfway thru the trip, the doors start having an issue closing. First, the train operator is just trying shut and close them with the announcement repeating “Please stand clear of the door.” We move along. Then at the next stop he can’t get the door indicator to turn off and comes on the loud speaker system and asks that if anyone sees an open door, please try and help shut it.  Apparently someone does and we move along. Next stop, the operator yells thru the speakers that we can’t move with the doors open. “Stop playing with the doors!”

I glance around my car, although we don’t have a door problem, to try and gauge who exactly would be playing with the doors. In my car, the average age is at least 45 and no one looks in the slightest bit interested in playing with subway doors. Given the time, it is unlikely that we would have the gangs of school age kids you see in the afternoon on the train. They might be up for playing with the doors but they usually aren’t on in the morning at this time. Despite the plea, no luck so  the next announcement says the operator will be calling his supervisor. Not sure if this a threat to the door playing passengers or what, but next thing you know, we are being offloaded, the most dreaded activity when riding the Metro.  The man next to me yells  “Fuck Mondays.”

As we offload in the steady rain, many people move forward toward the station to get cover, but a fair number of us, stand exactly where we came out, figuring we will just stay put and get on the next train.  So much for that theory, because the next train only has 6 cars, not 8 like our previous one, so unless we run forward, we won’t get on this train. My seatmate, now standing next to me, blurts out again, this time  “Fuck Mondays and Fuck this rain.” Not as eloquent as Karen, but the same sentiment indeed.