Ah, Monday; how we hate you.
Monday, that bane of humanity.
I loathe you.
Why has Monday become so synonymous with such abject despair? I have never encountered anyone who ran around going “It’s Monday! Huzzah!” Have you?
Nope. Not a single one. And God forbid we ever actually run into someone like that, we’d probably think that they had escaped from a mental institution/loony-bin/congress.
So, every 7 days we drag our bones out of bed to renew our hatred of that most cursed of days.
Of course, I suppose it’s not really Monday’s fault. It just happens to be the day that was arbitrarily chosen as the first day of the “work week.” Maybe that’s the problem: Monday starts the work week, and how rude is that? Going back to work is a crappy way to end a weekend, isn’t it?
Maybe if we could figure out how to end the weekend without having to go back to work, or shift the weekend so that some other day can bear the brunt of our end-of-leisure ire….
I don’t know. I suppose that, by now, Monday has learned to bear its lot in life. It has accepted its position as martyr to the cyclical nature of the universe, repeating again and again, ad nauseum, until humanity falls down, and days revert to their primordial state of “today,” “tomorrow,” and “yesterday.”
Until that time, let’s all try to be a bit nicer to Monday: it’s had a rough life.