Hello Monday, my old friend
A 1st world citizen’s odyssey every Monday of their lives
The door closes behind me. I am finally safe and sound in my apartment. I have managed to survive one more Monday.
As I leave my backpack on the floor, the clanging of the bottles reminds me that I am thirsty. But the thirst comes from my deep down my soul and not from my body. And my soul begs for wine to attain homeostasis again.
Two glasses later I have stopped caring about what happened since the moment my alarm clock rang in the morning. All I need is a good movie and some sleep. Then Tuesday happens. And Tuesdays are always better.
In all honesty, I am loathing how much I dislike Mondays.
Because the reason that we hate Mondays has nothing to do with the fact that it is the first (working) day of the week. Now that I think about it by purely observing it as the beginning of something new, Monday should have been something exciting and exhilarating. It should have been the day that we look forward to establishing our plans for the full week and to start closing incomplete affairs from the previous one. But instead, it has ended up as the black sheep of the calendar week. The torture day of every 9-to-5-er. The day that it is socially acceptable to be in a bad mood and to spread that to others.
I do not really hate Mondays.
I hate that everyone else hates Mondays. I hate the fact that I will enter my department and no one says “good day” to me on Mondays. I hate that everyone is moody and with very few psychological resources to cope with reality on Mondays. I hate that everyone decides to cascade all the information or tasks they need you to complete. I hate that they will ask me in a borderline impolite way.
I hate that everyone would point out that “it is Monday today, few more days until Friday”.
And I also hate that I am not able to block all those gloomy energy before it enters my system and it affects me for the day. I just leave myself to acquire all this negativity through osmosis and to feel grumpy and gloomy.
I hate the fact that I need to perform corrective actions in order to keep my composure of Mondays. I need to hit the gym, I need to drink wine, I need to watch a movie. I need to use all my type 1 personal crisis arsenal.
Because, at the end of the day, I do not hate Mondays.
I hate everyone who has decided that they are allowed to be bad-mannered in order to recover from their weekend.
Original published in: https://thanosantoniou.typepad.com/
