It’s the Bar! The Weekend Open Bar!

And a welcome one, at that. I’m ready. To kick off the pants, slap on some fat kid sweats. To slough off the responsibilities, pop on some wrestling. Or some Westworld. Or some Mob Psycho 100. Recline, recline, recline into the primo portion of the sectional in our sunroom.

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I’m fucking tired, man. Like — way tired. Like — eyelids half closed. But here I am! But here we are. This is Monday Morning Commute. The column where I share with you fellow rotting meat-sacks what I’m looking forward to each week. Furthermore, additionally, I then, with all my audacity, ask you to share what *you* anticipating across the next seven.

So! Without further ado, without further verbosity, without further self-indulgent blathering, let’s do this!

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