Mondays have a bad reputation. They’re the first of 5 punches straight into the gut; the monstrosity of trailers before the movie; that one person who always shows up 15 minutes early to every party and school dance (go home Brian).
Monday’s just seem to scream “I wanna watch reruns of “Friends” and weep into a cinnamon roll while contemplating changing my name to Sheila.”
Yet, I don’t think Mondays are all that bad. At least, not in comparison to my least favorite day of the week: Sunday.
Sunday is, for some, the last savory crumb of a bite sized weekend. It’s a day to relax, run errands, be with friends and family and prepare for what lies ahead.
Nope. Not for me. Sundays have always been a disappointment. They’re basically the flip-phones of weekdays: totally not trendy but favored by fathers and carpenters.
Sundays have always been designated to homework, mundane activities, junk food & dreary weather. It’s one of those days that force you to think of what you need to do, what you haven’t accomplished, how many squares of chocolate you’ve eaten since this morning, etc. There is just too much time to think– something I already do too much of.
Sundays are dumb.
The only thing Sundays are good for are writing blog posts, brunching & watching YouTube videos. Regardless of your feelings towards Mondays, please acknowledge this: Sundays are the soggy crust of a quality pastrami sandwich. Sundays leave you feeling lethargic, bloated and jet lagged, even if you’ve only managed to move three feet from your bed today.
So next time you start hating on Mondays, take a moment and think of all the fun things you did this Sunday.
Yeah, I couldn’t think of any either.