I am not a fan of Mondays. Mondays never like me back either.
In as much as I want to make the first the day of the week (although technically Sunday is) a good start, I always fall short of the energy to wake up to it at the right side of the bed. The thing is, I love mornings, but waking up to mornings I love is a struggle I put up with every single day-double the trouble waking up on a Monday.
Why are Mondays not for me?
1. Monday comes the day after a supposed to be Me-Time Day but never is. Sunday is the only time I can sleep without an alarm clock set to remind me that I have to get moving because a very busy day is ahead of me. However, with kids wanting to spend time with me and a warm cup of coffee to bribe me into it, how could I oversleep as planned? I can also be lucky if there are no family gatherings or school functions set on Sundays, but most often than not, there are, so I end up being all over town rather than reclining at the comfort of my sofa or bed, having the time of my life wandering aimlessly to some dreamland that I never visit. Then comes Monday to absorb my battered soul, and you can finish the statement what happens next.
2. Monday summarizes the week’s to-do list. No week is ever light for me. I always have something to start, catch up with or finish. I set the standard for horror on a Monday as I list down the things I have to do but I never do, or at least start doing but never sustain accomplishing. Since I am too soaked in my own miserable weekend, I create a bad mentality that makes Mondays horrifying when they are not supposed to be. Most often than not, I never get to accomplish my to-do list because I end up having several to-do lists apart from the original one because of my mindless approach to goals. I am a pro in procrastinating. Even if there is coffee to fuel the day, I still end up putting off current and important matters of the week to work on matters that are not important until next week or so. Still it can’t be considered waste of time and effort though, because I do work on things, but I am having trouble meeting the urgent. Monday is the start of a week of things to do, but I seem not to have enough days of the week to do them. Please do understand why I greet Hell-o Monday then.
3. Monday hates me. I reach out to Mondays with a clear mind. light heart and sweet smile all the time. Believe me, I really do. But each time I try to be nice, the thought of Mondays to be demanding makes me a lunatic. I have tried forgetting Mondays ever existed, skipping Mondays, being useless on a Monday, but none of which worked. I still could not hide from the monster that is Monday and I end up with a bad hair day to start with and a bad day in totality. Mondays give me untoward accidents, sudden problems, unforeseen troubles, countless worries—I can’t even imagine how many pranks of life can happen to me in one day. Although I find consolation on a cup of warm latte, still coffee turns bitter when I am reminded that I have no power over my Mondays.
The best thing about Mondays though, they only come once a week, and I have the other days of the week to redeem myself from the mud of jokes Monday dips me into and to prepare myself for more horrifying adventures Monday is going to challenge me by.