I always have. They suck, suck, suck. It all goes back to my early teenage years when Sunday afternoon meant that fun was over, I had to prepare my school bag for the next day and I was not allowed to stay up later than 10 pm. The problem with that was that I couldn’t watch the Sunday movie which usually started at 10 past 9 – no point watching just 30 minutes and be left wondering who died in the end.
Then I thought of the five days of lessons, endless homework and curfews ahead of me. The horror. Monday came and life was as boring as predicted. Wake up at 6:30 am, crawl out of bed, catch the school bus (always at the last minute), spend six hours in school which always felt like 12, then back home again. Eat, study for hours (real study time was about two hours, the rest was daydreaming), brush teeth, go to bed knowing I’ll have to follow this exact schedule four more times.
I was certain my feelings about Monday would change after I started working. They didn’t. Every Sunday evening my mood changed, I felt a bit anxious, as if I had forgotten to do something. Wake up at 6:30, crawl out of bed, take a shower, get dressed, rush to work, spend eight hours multitasking lie mad which felt like 12, then back home again. Eat, read a book for several hours (real reading time one hour, then I fell asleep on the couch with my mouth half open), brush teeth, go to bed knowing I’ll have to follow this exact schedule four more times.
It’s never gonna work with Mondays and me.