Replace the Word “God” with “Monday.”

My wife told me there’s a saying going around at her virtual office.  “There are only three days: yesterday, today and tomorrow.”  I don’t think people are saying that with too much sadness though. Is anyone really missing the other four?  I read somewhere that the Igbo people had four-day work weeks and that the Soviets had flexible job schedules of 5-10 days.  I don’t think any culture has got it tuned quite right. I’ve always preferred Buddhist arguments for the illusion of time, but I also make spreadsheets tracking my productivity. So parse that out.

Yes, it’s important to pace yourself, but when Monday’s come you can’t let this most hated of days get the best of you.  I tend to lean into the hate and see if I can beat it at its own game. Remember that scene in Lethal Weapon where Roger Murtaugh says “God hates me. That’s what it is.” and Martin Riggs says “Hate Him back; it works for me.”  That’s my Monday mantra.

So this past Monday, I woke up with a fiery vengeance at 5:30am. I ran two miles and lifted heavy objects and made the breakfast and cleaned the 1.5 bathrooms all the while tapping out emails and texts. Every hour of productivity made me meaner than the next. Until midday came and I was outside with the kids riding scooters and a pebble the size of an atom of plutonium jammed the thin wheel of my Razor toppled me ass over elbow onto the pavement.  I busted my toe and scraped my knee and even though I’m about to turn forty-six,  the hurt was much.

Well, there was no sense in complaining. I deserved it.  Any sane adult knows it. I finished that day by making a mean and loveless meatloaf while plying my foot with big medicine and went to bed tired of life.

But here’s my point.  That was two days ago!  So obviously that saying is hogwash.