Here’s something strange. I quite like Monday mornings. There I said it! I know, everyone else loathes them but me, well, I am quite happy with them. For most of the people I know, Monday signifies a long and torturous road ahead but for me it means that I don’t have to worry about anything else other than my desk activities.
Comes Friday I also feel really happy at the prospect of the weekend ahead but I do find that in general, weekends are all but a romantic notion.
So let me ask a question. What does the word weekend mean to you? To me, though I know, it is a fallacy, I always get visions of lazying about, lying in a hammock, in a garden somewhere, swaying gently in the soft breeze while humming birds sing their sweetest song and I reach out for my fourth cool gin and tonic. However this always translates by six hours of back breaking gardening (if it is sunny) or watching the remake of “The perfect storm” in my own backyard. Either way, neither realities involve humming birds or gin and tonics that much I know.
Another notion is having the “family” round for a nice Sunday lunch. For most people it is an illusion where all your children and their children get together, the little ones playing quietly in a corner while the grown ups hold hands as Doris Day’s greatest hits play in the background and you get to cook a five course meal sure to make everyone happy.
Unfortunately, the kids arrive one hour late, tell you that they have to be out by a certain time, that no, they do not like Doris Day, that no, they cannot eat your salmon en croute as they are all allergic to pastry (this was found out last week) and that the grandchildren have already said that they did not want to come “cos it’s boring at Grandad’s”.
What about a nice long walk then? Well again, I know before I start that the Gods will be against me because this idea invariably goes from the promise of a nice hike in some gorgeous woodlands to a two hour schlep in some God forsaken outer town Mall in overheated, overcrowded and overpriced superstores.
So for me when Sunday evening finally shows its face, I put a mental clock on countdown and look forward to Monday morning like a long term prisoner looks forward to the final release date.
And when Monday arrives, I get to the office safe in the knowledge that heat waves and hurricanes will not disturb my life nor make insane demands that I am not geared up to answering. Nor want to either. Allelujah for the working week!