But now that every day feels like Saturday I recognize the purpose of this often-maligned day. It brings much needed structure to the ups and downs of a week full of similar days, like the seasons confer upon the calendar. Like pleasure contrasts with pain.
Let us turn to the celebration of Monday in song for a moment.
The Mamas and the Papas knew Monday:
Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day
But whenever Monday comes,
You can find me cryin’ all of the time
Yeah, well, that’s just a bad example.
The Carpenters were more upbeat:
What I've got they used to call the blues
Nothin' is really wrong
Feelin' like I don't belong
Walkin' around, some kind of lonely clown
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
Yeah, that doesn’t work either, but let’s blame the rain. Ok, how about The Bangles?
It's just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
'Cause that's my fun day
In Nordic cultures the second day of the week was dedicated to worshipping the goddess of the Moon. Moon Day. If you’re named Mona, your Anglo Saxon ancestors used the word Mondandaeg to describe your day. Of course, Sunday described the Sun’s day. That fun day. Monday is kind of second fiddle, cosmically speaking.
But without Monday, the weekend would have no outer boundary. Tuesday would become the bearer of our ill will. But I really think Monday provides a gentle let down, a recovery period from a potentially strenuous weekend full of all the stuff we delay all week. If you enjoy work, Monday is the day you ease back into a productive routine and tell tales of the weekend to enjoyable coworkers. The morning you get to grab a Styrofoam cup full of steaming sadness from a stainless steel silo and chew one of those bran muffins only the company cafeteria knows how to make. And like a cold or the flu, you really don’t fully appreciate feeling better except by comparison. And for that, Monday, Friday thanks you.
😎
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