Monday Morning

Today is not Friday.  Get over it already. 

I will not tell a lie: I enjoy Friday just as much as everyone else.  The lead off to the weekend.  The precursor to two whole days of not working and getting to use all of my time as I see fit.  It’s like a mini-retirement every week.  Not to mention, the weekend is when everyone else decides to have fun.  Parties and brunches and play dates and shopping trips.  And so on and so forth.

But don’t be mistaken as I wax on about the weekend.  I love my Mondays too. 

You can think of it as a compare/contrast thing.  Without that feeling of drudgery that often accompanies Monday, without facing five days of work, would the joy of the weekend be as great?  Or you can think of it as the first day of a fresh week, a day to start anew on that diet you've been meaning to start or to begin curb that bad habit you've been to kick in the butt.  Who needs to wait for the New Year when you have Mondays?

I like to think of it for what it is.  I’m no mathematician or statistician or the like, but even I can gleam that if I spend Monday through Thursday wishing for Friday, I’ll spend more than half my life wishing the day away.  My day.  Living for the weekend, instead of living for the moment.  Waiting so impatiently and focused for Friday that any delight during the week falls short. 

So if you’re dreading this Monday morning, think of the alternative.  Wake up and rejoice and carpe diem.