Mondays

I’ve always disliked Mondays. To me, Mondays mean work, work, and a lot of work. I also work hard on other working days, but there is something maddening about Mondays. Perhaps, it is this feeling that my working week has just started and that it will take four more days before I could relax. It could possibly be this feeling that the weekend is not enough because, as always, I can hardly rest on weekends—there is the laundry waiting to be done, the bedroom to be tidied, the boyfriend who deserves “quality” time (whatever that means), the hair that badly needs deep conditioning, not to mention the face that needs exfoliating…and the list could go on and on.

But on hindsight, I ought to be thankful for Mondays. We ought to be. Because no matter how inconvenienced we may be, Mondays mean that we have jobs that pay the rent. They mean that we can look forward again to the weekend. Most importantly, they mean that we are truly alive—capable of feeling, thinking, conquering challenges, failing, and redeeming ourselves. We should always remember that like any other obstacle, Mondays, too, shall pass.

(An original post on friendster | Monday | February 18, 2008.)