I’m sure I’m not alone in having a special relationship with every individual day of the week. Some days are to be pushed through, a burden to bear on the way to better days, days of freedom and laziness. In this post, I shall lay out a couple of thoughts about the days of the week and what my attitude is when I approach them.
Monday: I don’t need to talk much about Monday. Any fellow rat race member of the Mon-Fri stripe will know how I feel about Monday. It’s how we’re all conditioned to feel by sitcoms and standup and cartoon cats. Monday doesn’t mean to be the harbinger of deep-rooted terror for so many office drones. It’s merely a function of where it sits in the week. I forgive you, Monday, though I can never enjoy you. The behavioural coding runs too deep.
Tuesday : Tuesday is when the week has found its feet. If the week were a day, Monday would be coffee cups 1 through 3, bleary-eyed blinking and burning toast. Tuesday would be settling in, cracking your knuckles, getting down to get some work done. It’s the ‘let’s get down to business’ day of the week, the ‘time to meet those deadlines’ day. The week still stretches out before you, but unlike with Monday there’s far less dread and horror attached to it. You’re too busy actually getting stuff done.
Wednesday : Ah Wednesday, affectionately known as ‘hump day’ because it’s where you’ve scaled the mountain and can look down upon the rest of the working week with a sense of determination and accomplishment. You’ve come this far, you can make it to the end of the week, no problem! Your goal is in sight, the elusive Weekend Morning Lie-ins will soon be yours. It’s a smooth downhill trip from here!
Thursday : Thursday is when the tiredness sets in. The week has gone on and on and on. Sure, you’re closer to the weekend than ever, but at what cost? It’s been so long since you last had a lie-in you can barely remember what your duvet feels like, even though you were wrapped up in it last night. I never could get the hang of Thursdays. I always seem to resent them for not being Fridays.
Friday : Ah, the much lauded Friday of TGIF fame. I find it’s overrated. You drag your sorry 4-working-day-battered carcass out of bed for another full day and then someone inevitably turns to you and utters the sentence you’ve been dreading to hear all day: “So, you out tonight, mate?”. No. No, I’m not out tonight. I’ve been working myself to the bone all day, all week. I’m knackered. I’m too old for this work-hard-party-hard attitude now. I want to go home. I want to go home and rub my feet and curl up on the sofa and watch TV and moan about how I don’t have the energy to go clubbing any more (not that I ever liked clubbing, but still). So that’s what I do. I crack out the rum and wait for bedtime.
Saturday : SATURDAY, THOUGH. Oh, Saturday, you wonderful bastard. Saturday is glorious, the only day of the week I can truly enjoy. I can wake up when I want, doze in my bed, slip in and out of dreams and cocoon myself in soft blankets and fluffy pillows. I can drink my coffee and eat my breakfast at my leisure. I can build up the energy to go out and socialise if I need to, or spend the whole day playing video games. The world is my Saturday-flavoured oyster, It’s a day with no drawbacks. Sure, there are chores to do, but you can do them slowly. You have all day, and all night if you want it.
Sunday : Sunday is an odd beast. It starts out well, much the same as Saturday. After a certain amount of time lying in, though, an odd sense of restlessness kicks in. You become almost hyperaware that tomorrow is Monday, that the week starts again and that from tomorrow your time is no longer your own once more. The pressure mounts – get some leisure time in! Watch a movie, no don’t, that’ll take 2 hours and that’s 2 hours you can spend writing or shopping or something! What do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO?! This is why Sunday flies by, right up until what Douglas Adams referred to as The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul.
And then the cycle begins anew. Don’t get me wrong; there are great Mondays and wonderful Thursdays, just as there are slumpy Tuesdays and wasted Saturdays. Each day needs to be taken with its own pinch of salt. Each time the sun rises, it could set on a very different world to the one you greeted as you fell out of bed. It’s the nature of the journey. I just find that applying the above blueprint gives the week a bit of structure, which is not necessarily a bad thing.
If you can think of a more positive set of alternatives, feel free to let me know!