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Following a late meeting on Monday, you watch with baited breath as the clock struggles to get to that golden, liberating hour – 5:00 p.m. It’s hangover city: population you in the cubicle, and the second you touch down at your home base your work clothes are torn off as if they were covered in vomit or some other unsavory substance.
Collapsing into a heap onto your bed or couch, you have one very large decision looming in front of you – to go to the gym and maybe salvage this miserable day or get in the shower and drive yourself to the brink of tears thinking about the week ahead?
You opt for the shower and crying option because, well, you’re still hungover from Saturday night and if you don’t feel sorry for yourself then no one will because the only people that really care about you are your parents, and calling them to complain about your work-life balance is only going to cause concern. For now, it’s a shower and then probably some really sad music by The Smiths or Radiohead to just drive home the point that life is awful today. There’s nothing better than listening to depressing music when you’re feeling depressed. I know that may be difficult for you people who are perpetually happy, but for some reason it reinforces the fact that you’re sad but in a good way.
Now that you’ve showered off the last remnants of the weekend and office sweat from Monday, you’ve got roughly four hours before it’s time to go to bed and start all over again with the worst day of the week – Tuesday.
There’s very little food in the refrigerator because you were too hungover to go to the grocery store on Sunday afternoon, and while it’d be best for your wallet to piece something together from the paltry selection in your cupboard or pantry (most likely either a box of mac and cheese or a couple of bowls of Special K cereal) you’re simply too defeated to cook anything.
It’s dire straits inside of your apartment, so you sit down on the couch with a box of saltines you found and fire up the TV. Five minutes later, you go back to the pantry you just looked in, check the refrigerator again to see that it’s empty save for condiments, some expired milk, and three eggs, and then go back over to couch once again.
You fire up Postmates while munching on those dry ass saltine crackers and watch four episodes of “Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee” on Netflix and wonder how you can acquire the sort of wealth that Jerry Seinfeld has amassed. Postmates is obviously surging (because of course it is) and you order something quasi healthy – chicken pad thai or burger without the bun. After some extreme mental gymnastics to justify spending 30 dollars on delivery food for one person, you hit “Order” and forty minutes later you’re eating and trying to forget about life for awhile.
After sticking the food you couldn’t finish in the fridge (you’ll intend to eat it for lunch tomorrow but you’ll forget to bring it in the morning) you head to the bathroom to prepare your nightly routine. Wash the face, brush the teeth, floss, and finally settle into bed around 9 p.m. Perhaps you read a book for thirty minutes. Maybe you watch a Sunday HBO show that you missed last night because it airs too late for you. Either way you’re asleep by 9:45 p.m., exhausted from an absolutely horrible day at work with no hope in sight. Tomorrow is Tuesday, and the week has only just begun. .
Image via Unsplash
Man, this sounds like a good way to drag the Sunday Scaries into the workweek.
The best to get over a 2-day hangover is to get your life back in order with the three essentials: Gym. Cleaning. Groceries.
Monday Mournings.
At least you’ll only have to run this cycle for 40 more years!
Nightmare fuel
Happy to see other people agree that Tuesdays are the worst day of the week.
https://pgparchive.wpengine.com/tuesday-is-hell-on-earth/
Tuesday is the real Monday
I’ve been playing in an indoor volleyball league for a year now exclusively on Mondays. It helps IMMENSELY getting through the work day knowing my favorite sport, some beer and wings are waiting for me when I walk out the door at 5.
Came here to say this. My men’s hockey league plays Monday nights so I now actually look forward to Monday for the first time probably ever.
I will be playing 9 -18 holes of golf with a good friend who moved away and is in town visiting. My Monday night is going to be great.
Isn’t it bated breath, not baited?
It is. From Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, and abbreviation of abated. Ha! And people said I would never use my English degree…
first time for everything, congrats!
Thank you kindly, it’s a pretty big day for me. (I’m actually an English teacher so at least my degree wasn’t entirely a waste)
Monday’s suck
Unnecessary apostrophe. Sorry Tom.
Can’t imagine relating to this
How much of this is real and how much is exaggerated for the sake of content? Genuinely curious.