Monday, August 22, 2011

Monday, Monday

Every individual 24-hour period has its own little feel or niche about it that makes everyone realize what day of the week it is without even looking at the calendar. Monday without question is the principal prime example of this theory.

For full effect download “Monday, Monday” by the Mama’s and the Papa’s and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.

Monday is the day that everyone hates with an extreme passion. It is the day when people wake up and realize the magnitude scale of work and responsibilities that lay in store for them only as soon as they have the guts to roll over and hit more than just the snooze button for the umpteenth time. Mondays make you want to vomit uncontrollably and avoid having to take a swan dive into that pool of accountability that is waiting at the office or classroom. Monday is the Fran Drescher of Sports Illustrated swimsuit models.

Along with the negativity of Monday itself, Monday is also a day of new beginning, a day where everyone tells themselves that they are going to go out and accomplish those acts and deeds that they always talk themselves into doing.

“I’m going to finish that mid-term essay and bathe a vagabond poodle while degreasing my bike chain.” They often tell say. But how often does that bike chain stay greasy? How often does that vagabond poodle stay dirty? How often do they actually put procrastination on the backburner and crank out that mid-term essay? Every day but Monday, that’s for sure.

Monday’s are Garfield’s Goliath.

The parking lot at Golds Gym is always jam packed on Mondays from 5 a.m. to midnight. Monday is the day that people persuade themselves that they are going to start losing that beer belly or massive thighs, and start working out this time on a more “consistent” basis. Mondays are time for them to get going before they waste away into nothing.

I can’t help but admit that I am always wound just a tad bit tighter on Mondays. I want to accomplish as much as I can, cross off as many things as possible on my “To-Do” list. For some reason I don’t feel like I have worked as hard as I could have unless I have scaled Mt. Kilimanjaro blindfolded and crocheted a blanket for the entire city of Ogden all in a single Monday time period. Somewhere I feel that the ghosts of Mondays past are shaking their heads in disappointment.

Mondays are the days when we send the most e-mails out, answer the most phone calls at work, spend the least amount of time on Facebook, and watch the minimum hours of television. If it wasn’t for Monday Night Football and House at 7 p.m. on Fox, I wouldn’t touch the ON/OFF button on my Vizio!

As Monday comes to an end, and the overwhelming demolishment starts to sink into our bodies and minds, that is when we all start to realize that accomplishing something in our lives is going to take a lot more than just a Monday’s worth of effort and persistence. While we all set our alarms and crawl into bed, we should understand that some people just won’t be back tomorrow, for tomorrow isn’t Monday. Tomorrow is a lot more than that. Tomorrow is committing your self to even more of a serious relationship, and some people just can’t handle it. And as they walk out the door to their Monday cars we can all wish the Monday chaps farewell on the one day a week that they show up and try and do something more than just watch American Idol or conquer a Call of Duty level. In an ironic way, the Monday community will always be there for us.

At least that one day of the week they will.

What do you think?


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