Sunday Blues
It’s that time of the week — a Sunday night.
And then it hits you — Sunday isn’t a day; it’s an existential reminder.
The evening stretches long, but somehow feels fleeting. You stare at the clock, hoping to slow time, yet dreading each tick because it brings you closer to that alarm ringing at 6 AM.
Done any hobbies? Yes, if sitting in front of the coach counts.
You got yourself active? If that one grocery run to sustain the week counts, yea.
Dinner feels heavy, not because of the food, but the weight of the week ahead. The to-do lists, the meetings, the endless cycle of work emails — it’s like you’re standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into a free fall of monotony.
You hit that point during dinner when you realize you are part of societal machinery, a dispensable cog in the system, and this miserable pattern will repeat itself again and again for the next few months, and you start thinking perhaps Nietzsche had a point after all?
Maybe, just maybe, you tell yourself: next weekend will be different. You’ll plan, you’ll rest better, you’ll finally take up that hobby you’ve been putting off.
But deep down, you know. Next Sunday night will feel exactly the same.
Lifestyle changes are hard.
They are expensive, disruptive, and for many of us, unthinkable.
Yet, we don’t have to change everything at once — we can start small, slowly exploring our passions and interests — I would encourage these as starters to those who feel that they are not doing more in addition to their work.
Reclaiming The Rhythm
It is extremely tempting, especially with those body aches, to just let loose on Saturday and Sunday — by sleeping or watching sitcoms and eating. But it is this loss of “rhythm” which may make things harder for us.
Take some breaks on Saturday and Sunday to do some scheduled things — going for a jog, eating out with your friends/family, journalling — endless opportunities. Doing activities like these makes the evenings truly feel like yours — not your last defense against Monday.
Small Rebellions
Organize small micro-joys into your weekdays.
Monday won’t feel as monstrous if Tuesday holds something you’re excited for — a favourite podcast, an art class, or just trying a new recipe.
It is this branching into different aspects of our life that allows us to flourish and become better versions of ourselves, while not losing ourselves to the “grind”.
Maybe the dread feels inevitable because life itself can feel cyclical — birth, school, work, retirement, death.
But you must understand that the period between birth and death, is an empty canvas for you to paint. Nobody sections your life into “school”, “work” and “retirement” — these are just human concepts.
Nietzsche’s eternal return echoes here: if the pattern is unbreakable, the challenge is to find meaning within it.
Perhaps the answer isn’t escape or acceptance — but to zoom out and see that there is no pattern.
The Sunday blues remind us of our deep, human yearning for balance and purpose. They’re not just about dreading work but about craving lives that feel rich in meaning. It’s not the Monday alarm we fear — it’s the idea of waking up one day, years later, realizing we slept through what truly mattered.
My advices above are small changes, but the larger changes depend ultimately on you.
Find where your happiness is, and search for it.
If the weekends are the only parts of your life that you truly enjoy,
then you will be spending 72% of your life without feeling that happiness.
I chose to write about this, changing from my usual poetry and short-stories, as this is a common experience for many. Hope this may help in some little way, and let us look forward to a great week !
