It’s true; you really can’t trust that day

Saturday morning
oh Saturday morning
All my tiredness is gone away
Got money and my honey
And I’m out on the stand to play

Sunday morning my head is bad.
But it’s worth it for the time that I had
But I got to get my rest
because Monday is a mess

Fats Domino

When I first awaken pre-dawn on a Monday morning I am struck by a brief (very brief) thought of wondering if slashing my wrists would really hurt all that much. Suicide is one thing, but pain is an entirely different thing.

It’s OK. I’m not really suicidal at all, but there is something about a Monday that brings about the impulse of not really wanting to face the realities of the day. Because, in so facing, one must also accept the realities of the week that ensues.

Actually more people off themselves on Monday than on any other day of the week. I have no statistics to bear this out but supposedly it is so, and it makes sense to me.

Furthermore, coronaries are more prevalent on Mondays than any other day of the week.

Two days of the week evidently cause the greatest angst in western society: Monday and Sunday. And Sunday’s are truly stressful for many. Sundays can be tedious and, in a seeming contradiction, feel both long and short.

“There’s something about a Sunday that makes a body feel alone,” wrote Kris, and rarely has a truer sentiment been penned. Sundays are inclined to be lonely, especially for those who are socially isolated. Sundays also put us in anticipation of Monday, however, and I think that is the real vileness of the day.

Years ago I wrote a column about the wretchedness of Sunday; focusing on the angst that starts to bubble up early in the afternoon and increases in magnitude as the hours crawl (nay speed) by. Anyway for that virtually throwaway column I received more mail and phone calls than any other I ever wrote. Everybody, it seemed, could relate to it.

One guy wrote that the afternoons were so bad he found it prudent to begin drinking at about 2 p.m. so that by bedtime he was effectively blotto and numbed. And while I don’t recommend this approach, I do understand it.

But this Sabbath distress, of course, is due to Monday anticipation. Sunday before vacation for example, doesn’t cause boils in the soul. Such a Sunday can be a fine day. No, it is because Sunday is the day prior to the week’s demands.

Personally, I blame all of this adult misery on the schools. A word of advice here, if you are ever in doubt about something to blame for all that is wretched in your life, blame the schools. It’s an easy cheapshot and who could argue with you? Prior to being frogmarched up to first grade, most of us had decent Mondays, filled with play and frolicking. Then a hideous reality was imposed on us and life became less charming. It would always remain less charming. For, even thought school days end, Mondays remain with us until the end. Maybe even after. Maybe Hell is an eternity of Mondays. Yep, so blame the schools.

Don’t believe me that Mondays persist in their badness? Well, take me, for example. I work from home by this stage of my life. I don’t need to suit up and head out amidst the commuter traffic only to end up in a place I don’t want to be. Nope, I don’t have to go anywhere. Yet, my mindset has never changed. After that, Mondays are bound to be bad for the remainder of your life.

I think part of the persistent problem is that Wendy is still working – which is a good thing in essence or they might be hauling us off to the county workhouse due to the fact my pension bucks aren’t exactly the sort of thing to light up the eyes of a 25-year-old golddigger seeking a Sugar Daddy. Just as well probably. So, what I’m saying is my Monday’s aren’t more challenging than other days of the week, but they seem to be.

I still have this big hand twisting my gut, just because it’s Monday. Monday merely reminds me of all the things I vowed to get to during the weekend and also hadn’t addressed the previous week due to such important causative factors as laziness and procrastination. Oh, and Facebook should also be blamed rather than my inability to focus. Consequently, my Mondays leave me feeling immersed in guilt because I know I will decide that the entire challenging Monday task I should address will be deferred until Tuesday.

So, here I am, moving towards Sunday afternoon and writing this blog rather than turning my hand to a freelance writing project that is partially finished but that I don’t feel like getting back to, even though I won’t be paid until I finish it.

Goddamn Mondays.

I blame the schools.


10 responses to “It’s true; you really can’t trust that day

  1. You need more time not working, and with Wendy not working either! Once that happens you will be truly retired and the challenge becomes to know which day of the week it is. A blissful situation!

  2. The only thing I could think this morning as I forcibly pushed myself out of bed was (pardon my french) fuck fuck fuck fuck!

  3. Hmmm, I hear you. When I was working I would try and keep my eyes forced shut as I woke up on a Monday morning in the hope that I could continue in that world of black forever, rather than face any more nonsense that only seems so bad at the start of the working week.
    You’d think it would be better now that I am temporarily not working but it’s only on a Monday that I panic that I am not doing enough to find work and what the hell did I do last week and so on until I am mentally and emotionally black and blue from beating myself up,
    Only on a Monday though. Today is a Tuesday.
    I’m fine on a Tuesday ……

  4. To quote the Boomtown Rats, I don’t like Mondays . . .

  5. This past Monday (yesterday) was particularly bad for me and mine, being the first work/school day after changing the clocks back an hour. ‘They’ say you get an hour extra to sleep but since my brain isn’t so easily tricked I end up waking an hour earlier than I should. Add this to putting a sleep deprived toddler to bed an hour late and you’ve got a disaster in the making. The theory that changing the clocks to suit the sunlight saves power sounds nice on paper but any savings I might expect to reap will be spent on alcohol to numb the pain of it all. I suspect it will be a challenging week.

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