07/29/2026: Mondays Are Mondays
I realized this week that no matter the profession, and no matter what day our week actually starts on, it’s still Monday. Even if it isn’t on Sunday, the Sunday Scaries always come before a new week starts. The dread of a fresh set of seven days makes the inevitable first day strange and oftentimes stressful, and I can say with certainty that this past Monday was the Mondayingest Monday that has ever Mondayed.
Every single thing that could go wrong went wrong, and every mild inconvenience I could possibly think of happened back-to-back until the day was done and I wasn’t sure I had any sanity left. I’d say that that day was definitely a write-off, but one I won’t soon forget.
Why does there have to be a terrible day of the week by default? Why can’t we cheat the system and the scaries and just have normal starts and ends to weeks? Why even have the construct of the workweek at all? I think that’s where we messed up: trying to find meaning in and build structure around things that by nature can’t really be controlled.
Money is just paper and an electronic placeholder. Time and days of the week are just a way to regulate how much of that money goes to companies and employees. Time is a measure of how much effort we put into the things that the world convinces us actually matter, and it’s something that we never get back. We just waste our money, our hours, and our days over and over, thinking that at the end of the road happiness and fulfillment will be waiting for us there.
But when the false reality of these constructs falls away and there’s nothing left, what was the point of being scared on Sunday, of putting ourselves through that Monday from hell? Is what we’re worried about even real? Is it more than just a means to an end, or is it a waste of precious resources?
The truth of the matter is that some days are good and some days are bad. It could be the start, the middle, or the end of the week, but no matter what there will be worries and pain, and there will always be triumphs and peace. I just wish that those ups and downs weren’t tied to weird societal norms and practices; I just want to be free to have a good day or a bad day, and I just want to do the things that matter to me. But here I am, cursed to hate Mondays for all eternity, and forced to need time and money just to get by.
Though I desperately wish dreams were free to chase, they require some of those constraining constructs in order to come to fruition. So I’ll try to only take what I need and leave the rest, and take each day as it comes no matter what name it goes by. I hope that someday all these deep thoughts and lofty ambitions are worth it; I can’t imagine doing anything other than being myself.