Phew. I wasn't entirely sure we would get to Monday morning.
All weekend it felt like the new Trump administration had a self-destruct button it was desperately searching for.
In fact, it started about 120 seconds after Trump was sworn in - the inaugural address was so dark and ominous that it seemed to hint at a country on the brink of anarchy.
Then half a million protesters enveloped Washington and streamed towards the White House in a powerful rejection of the Trump presidency.
That same day the new press secretary told so many falsehoods in his very first appearance that his credibility - his only real asset - has been fatally undermined.
Finally, last night it emerged (in another mind-numbing development to cap off a febrile weekend) that General Mike Flynn, the national security adviser, is under counter-intelligence investigation for links to Russia.
This was reported by the Wall Street Journal, apparently in another leak from an intelligence community that Trump is already furious with.
Any one of these twists would be stunning. Together they amount to a crisis.
Except that crises don't touch this president. He just brushes them off as fake news, tweets another provocation and moves on.
So I have no idea where any of this is going. All I know is that I'm punch-drunk on Day Three of this presidency.
And we have 1,429 days to go.