How do so many people dislike a day of the week?

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Every Monday I walk into work and lie. 

Not a heinous kind of lie, mind you. A lie of: “I want to fit in so terribly much”. 

Honestly, at this point, I don’t know what else to say. I’m tired, I haven’t had my coffee yet, and the morning before this I wasn’t even awake at this time yet. 

So when someone says to me “Man, Monday’s are the worst, right? Can’t wait until Friday” I agree automatically. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not the most alert. I’m not terribly enthused or outright excited to be there. I certainly can’t condemn anyone for not jumping into the day with both feet. 

But something seems wrong to me about wishing away one seventh of my life. 

Mondays are going to come around once a week. There’s nothing you can do to stop them — even if you somehow found a way not to participate, Monday will happen in the rest of the world all the same. No person is an island; no week skips its Monday. 

People are usually shocked to hear that my favorite day of the week is Tuesday. I like Tuesdays because I’m a creature of habit — my work week has the most stable routine to it. I don’t pick Friday, because I’m often distracted and antsy to get home and begin something new for the weekend. Thursdays are spent wishing it was Friday. Mondays and Wednesdays are spent complaining that the week isn’t moving by more quickly. 

That leaves Tuesdays. 

It’s tempting to believe that most of my coworkers are unsatisfied with their careers. Why else wish whole days of it away? I don’t think they are. Maybe they’re unhappy with the idea that they must have a job at all. Being around family too much leads to as many complaints. 

You may as well complain about the weather. In fact, complaints about the day seem in the same line — a small, shallow offering of words that are simply expected. It’s familiar ground for all those who hear it, a statement of commonality. Which is why I find myself saying it, or agreeing, even when it doesn’t resonate with me. 

Are there truly even Monday haters out there? Someone who detests the day with all their heart, who has never had a good thing happen to them on that day of the week? Or is it just a world of liars, a tradition of no meaning just because “Hello!” gets boring and “I hate Monday” has a grumpy sense of comfort, like your favorite threadbare pajamas? 

Perhaps, sometimes, people want to complain a little. Even if they don’t truly mean it. 

Especially on those darn Mondays.

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