Mondays

Hot damn I hate Mondays.

Quick recap of the weekend: went to a concert in which a beautiful girl sang. Really fun songs, everyone had some sweeeeet pipes, and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. Except for the part where I arrived slightly late (curse you public transportation!) and the part where I didn't eat dinner.
I imagined that I might be able to frolic carelessly with aforementioned cute girl; alas, the christmas lights had already been turned off, and we (in company with her friends) were left with naught to do but catch the bus back to the dormitories in giddy, college-like chattiness.
As we approached her domicile, I was able to snag but a moment with her, in which I should have pounced and asked the dread question that had held my mind for the better portion of the night.

I didn't.

Thus, bringing us to the present dilemma: I must ask her out soon, lest some other young rogue whisk away a girl who seems to be (to put it slightly ironically) a godsend (irony to be explained at a later date).
But do I have the daring? The cunning and raw cojones to enact what seems to be such a herculean task?

And yet, I must. To move onward with my own strength!

And I can soooooooo see this crashing down all around me.
Fuck.