I’m just going to say it—Monday gets a bad rap (thank God it’s Tuesday).
I know. I get it. Hear me out.
I was talking to someone at work a few weeks ago (on a Monday) and I asked how their day was going and they sighed, “It’s a Mondaaaayyy”.
They really said it with that extra long “A” sound too.
I immediately replied with this idea that Monday gets a bad rap. My primary argument is that Monday signifies the beginning of the week. Which is just the beginning of obligation after a short vacation.
It’s kind of unfair to Monday that Tuesday is not the beginning of the week instead. If any other day started the week, we wouldn’t lament Monday like we do.
The problem with Monday isn’t actually the day itself. The problem is where it falls in the calendar of our lives.
Monday has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even when you have that coveted 3-day weekend, you still call Tuesday, Monday. “Boy it’s sure a Monday today”.
So often in life we couple negative feelings with events (or people) that are undeserving.
I think about the irritable moments I go through—the times I become agitated without regard for anyone else.
It’s usually the fault of something else on my mind, but the blame is somehow placed on the person who gets my negative attention.
Most of us have dozens of daily interactions with people. But one little gear in that machine could slip up and send us straight into a tornado of frustration.
The worst part is that we don’t let everyone see our unraveling. We tend to save this side of us for the people we love most.
How many times have you gone home and lost your mind on your spouse, or your kids, or your poor sweet mother? It just happens.
Of course these moments of explosion don’t define us. They’re mere flaws in the greater picture of the person we want to be.
We know we aren’t perfect. Chances are, the people that become our verbal punching bag know that it’s not really us that they’re speaking to in that moment.
We are just the product of all those interactions that have led to an intolerance of sorts.
Sometimes just one thing could trigger the blow up. Something gets said, we’re asked to do something we don’t want to do, maybe we stub a toe.
And then, boom! The top is blown off.
Just like Monday getting its reputation for the poor showing, here we are, in all our glory, just getting tired of it.
It’s a funny thing we do. We put on a polite face for the rest of the world, mostly minimizing the annoyances along the way.
We might even adamantly deny the power we give to those little irritants.
Spilling our coffee — oh well!
Screwing up at work — it’s fine!
The restaurant messes up the order, the people won’t leave us alone, and the long drive becomes even longer after a detour — we’re okay!
The fact is we’re burning inside after a long day of mishaps. We just want to mindlessly scroll our social media account in an attempt to forget about the frustrations.
But even that adds to the stress once we happen upon that family framed in that perfect photo with all those glamorous hashtags.
The comments that follow are all about how perfect their family looks and how well-behaved their kids are.
They almost look like they have no problems. So, we begin comparing ourselves to other people on top of the frustrations building inside. Not exactly a recipe for peace.
Monday gets a bad rap.
It simply becomes the product of the circumstances that surround it.
In a similar way, we won’t be perfect at home. The circumstances of the day will eat at us until we’re in a safe place and can let it all out.
We’ll focus throughout the day and we might do a good job at keeping our angst aside.
But as inevitable as Monday, we’ll eventually lose it.
It’s okay. It’s part of being human. We can’t shoulder everything, but we’ll try. And when we become agitated or run down, that’s when we count on our loved ones to shoulder a bit too.
And then one night you’ll glance away from the TV and look over at the face you’ve been looking at for years. You’ll realize the people around you have been holding you together all along.
There are scars—even some pretty nasty ones. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is being in the trenches with the people you care most about.