I have a fascinating relationship with Mondays. There’s some charm to the first day of the week as if it dawns with a responsibility to set things right. With a new zeal not to carry the mistakes from the week gone by.
To follow the routine. To focus on the work. To get back to life.
With responsibility comes pressure. The pressure of all the things undone in the last week and pushed to the next. Pushed out with the hope that the first day of the following week would be different. Better. It never is.
I usually want to get back to all the right habits on Mondays. Why do so on any other day? In the middle of a week? Right? I remember we, friends, once had a running joke where we would answer any suggestion of starting something healthy with “let’s start on Monday”.
Gym? Let’s start on Monday. Stop eating junk food? Let’s start on Monday. Read more? “Let’s start …”
This habit of waiting for Monday to start something different, something good, has stuck with me. Funny how bad habits die hard.