How to tell it is a Monday at my house

So I wake up late this morning, yeah it is a Monday.  My Hubby sometimes goes into work early and it is quite an adjustment after the weekend.  Gus (one of our cats) thinks this is a sin against nature and proceeds to tell me so very loudly at 4 am.  Told you he can go in early.  Gus is what we refer to in this house as "the Momma Cat".  Don't get hung up on gender roles here he is a he, he just has an overload of maternal instinct that he directs towards D and me.  The truly funny thing is he is at his heart an independent cat.  We say his theme song is Joan Jett's "I Hate Myself for Loving You."  

So I tell Gus that I have two more hours of sleep to go and to leave me alone Dad went to work. Yes I am one of those people that think their animals understand what they are saying. Have you been to my house?  It is true, because Gus crawls back into bed with me and proceeds to go back to sleep taking me with him.  Good Kitty.

When I do wake up I take in for breakfast two pieces of bread.  The last two pieces.  At work I develop a Monday headache and decide to not go to the grocery store to buy more bread.  I choose instead to come home and fire up the bread machine because buying bread on Monday is too much work for me.  To top it off I use hamburger buns from the freezer to make garlic toast to go with dinner.  If we had hamburgers with the buns 10% of the time around here I would be surprised.  

Oh wait I think I hear my bread machine, I know I smell it. Later