THE MUNDEIGHS

(September 22, 2003)
Oftentimes Disturbing

Let me guess…

You woke up this morning with a sigh "I hate Mondays!" It feels like you need a crane to pull you out of your bed whenever this happens. There is a minty spirit that makes your eyes remain on a state of drowsiness. Your muscles and limbs feel like jello, that you'd want to just slither and crawl out of bed and into the table where your coffee awaits.

While your coffee may have given you the jumpstart for you to go take a bath, get changed and be on your way to the office, you find yourself back in the hellish state of Monday-whining. Graphically, it is most especially whenever you stare at your typewriter or PC, the bunch of files that you have to work through, and the boss who seems to always have his eye on you. If it were in the Star Wars universe, you'd swear he had one of those floating spy drones always focusing on whatever you're doing.

There is that moment when you suddenly space out, dreaming about lying on the couch with a large bag of chichacorn and some blue pepsi, while watching the cheesy afternoon dramas on television, awaiting for the vendor of steamed sweet corns to pass by wailing "maiiiiiiiiissssssss!!!" The humidity of the afternoon sun, along with the tranquility of a weekday lazily spent at home. It is the definition of nirvana on a Monday with your staplers and the sound of a PC printer making drum noise. Your mind shoves too far that it actually wishes to add another day to the seven days of the week. Maybe if you'd be a member of some obscure religious group that believes working on Mondays is sacrilegious, maybe that could cure your hate for this day. But then again, after awhile, you'd start hating Tuesday. So what's the use?

You'd best adjust your work level to robotic. In the tradition of the Pied Piper of Hamlin, you turn on your little radio to zombify you to an active work level. Just hope the noise that you generate around your supposed perimeter of audio privacy doesn't annoy your boss.

But worry not, Friday is just around the corner. Making a big deal out of it would only make the days go longer. Tuesdays may be a bore, it's like an extension of the Mondays. Wednesdays, you decide to pass by the bars, hoping it was Friday, or perhaps boggle out your eyes staring at college girls on their way to so-called "ladies-nite" Wednesday parties. On Thursdays, though, jologs are going up and down their phonebooks trying to decide who to ask out for a weekend date. I'd rather spend my Thursdays hooked on TV with Angel and Buffy. And then, comes…ahhhh…. Friday.

When you think about how annoying a severe case of "the Mondays" can get, then you'd better make a mental note to yourself of getting enough rest on the weekends. As I end this mildly uninteresting write-up, I listen to that 80's song from the Boomtown Rats singing "Tell me why… I don't like Mondays!"