Damn. It’s Monday again. Like a bad penny, Monday just keeps coming back.
I’ll admit it. I hate Mondays. I hate them so much that I usually start pre-hating them on Sunday afternoon, just to get ahead on the process. It’s not healthy, but yet, there it is.
I’m not the only one, of course. Distaste for Mondays is fairly universal. Who knows? You might hate Mondays too.
Anyway, the whole Monday angst thing got me thinking. Are we just so accustomed to hating Mondays that the week’s opener has unfairly gained a bum rap? Maybe Mondays really don’t deserve the hate. I decided to do some research to see if I could learn anything about Blue Monday. And by research, I mean I consulted Google.
And guess what? Turns out, Monday has totally earned its nasty reputation. A March 2014 article from Time magazine reports that on Mondays, stock market returns are lower, suicide rates are higher, and more calls and inquiries are made to hotlines for AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases than on any other day of the week.
OK, that last statistic may be a result of too much weekend stupidity, but you get the drift. And for most of us, it’s probably not quite that drastic. I think most people would say that, as a rule, Mondays just suck more than other days. But why?
Well, for one thing, Monday is the rude awakening after the traditional weekend. We eight-to-fivers savor our weekends because we see them as a break from the routine. Things are more relaxed and we have the opportunity to do as we please with fewer deadlines and no pesky boss breathing down our necks. Those days are ours to schedule.
It doesn’t even matter if we choose to spend part of our “leisure” time tending to chores or running errands. This past weekend I busted a hump scrubbing toilets and vacuuming the carpets. I can say for certain I actually worked harder at that than I ever do on an office project, but no matter. It was still my choice.
Another factor which contributes to Monday angst is your attitude about your job. If you love your job, chances are you don’t mind Monday any more than any other day. You may be absolutely tickled to get back to work after the weekend. But if you don’t like your job, you’ll anticipate Mondays with the same enthusiasm you’d have for an IRS audit or a case of hemorrhoids.
Take me, for example. If I went to bed on Sunday nights knowing I was going to get up the next day, drive to Studio 606, and fix breakfast for the Foo Fighters, I would hardly sleep in anticipation of the privilege. If that’s what I did every day, I would bound out of bed on Monday mornings (and any of the other six days, by the way), stumbling over my own feet in an attempt to get to my job as soon as humanly possible.
But for now, Monday mornings mean answering emails ad nauseum, attending a meaningless weekly meeting, and dealing with whatever hair-on-fire crisis has surfaced. And as you may recall from a recent edition of Will Work For Foos, I’m not exactly enamored of my employment situation at the moment. I’m grateful for a means to pay the rent and buy groceries, but in terms of personal fulfillment, or making a difference, or any of the other things that should constitute job satisfaction, well…there’s precious little of that. The situation still weighs on me. Betrayal does that to you.
So for me, when Monday rolls around again, it’s back to the grind. And the next weekend seems awfully far away. Insert sad face here.
Today, however, I had something of an epiphany.
It started off while I was walking the track this morning. I was up and on the move just a hair before 6:00, the sun not even peeking up yet. I was out there pounding out the laps, buoyed along by a refreshing mix of Foos, Vultures, QOTSA, a pinch of Genesis, a dash of the Pixies, and an interesting new song from Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, titled, (appropriately, I think) Stranger to My Happiness. Again, refer to prior blog.
Admittedly, it had been a bit of a struggle to get going. I was sore, and I felt sure my pace was slower than usual. But no, I was clipping along at an average of 15:45 a mile, about normal for me, and a full 30 seconds faster per mile than I was averaging when I started visiting the track back in June. I’ve been getting faster, feeling better, and growing stronger. Today I was cognizant of all of that.
I OWNED the track this morning. OK, maybe not, but I felt like I owned it.
And while I was making the track my bitch, I got an idea. What if I made Mondays my bitch, too?
I decided to approach Mondays with a new attitude. I’m not talking one of those Pollyanna, Little Mary Sunshine, puppies and rainbows, face-the-day-with-a-positive-attitude attitudes. Pfffft! Me? Pollyanna? You’ve got to be joking. That’s not me!
No, my new attitude runs more along these lines: This is war!! Take no prisoners! Kick ass and take names! Back off, Monday, I’m tired of your crap!
I fully embraced this new tactic while sorting through my email. I came across a note from one of our esteemed Texas senators (note: feel free to insert air quotes around the word esteemed. And it doesn’t matter which Texas senator, they’re both equally heinous.) He was asking me to chip in $5 to “fight President Obama’s liberal agenda.”
I admit that it’s my own fault I received this request. I made the mistake of writing him last week to tell him I was unhappy with his performance. Just goes to show, they don’t pay attention to the content of your message, they just glom on to your email address and add you to the list of sheeple.
But instead of simply deleting the email, I sent him a reply instead, telling him to stop being an ass-kisser and do his job, and to take me off his list, as the chance of me sending him money was nil. And I know he’ll never see it, and whichever minion intern does see it will likely delete it. But it still made me feel better. Sometimes, you just have to take a stand. And from here on, I will be taking a stand against Monday being the shittiest day of the week. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it, right?
So here it is, in a nutshell…
Hey Monday! I’m talking to you. I will no longer bend to your will. You’re not the boss of me. And I will not let you push me around anymore. Find another sucker, because I’m through with you, you big bully!
Whew! I feel better already.
Congrats to July’s WWFF Baked Goods winner, Kelly M. from Lancaster, OH, who found this blog via one of the multiple Foo -centric Facebook pages I frequent . She’s getting a pan of scrumptious lemon squares this week. Keep reading, and you may be the winner for August!