Yeah, it’s probably a little weird to love Mondays. I most likely wouldn’t feel the same way if I were doing a 9 to 5, Monday through Friday job that I hated. I get that. But I’m lucky because I get to do what I love to do. Even though it’s sometimes really hard to make myself sit down and start writing, I love being an author and I love the stories I create. So that helps. But it’s more than that.
Mondays are like a mini season change.
I love all the seasons, but by the time they’re dying down I’m more than ready to welcome in the next one. Mondays are like that to me. Weekends are great, but I fill every minute with stuff I want and need to do and, honestly, by Sunday night I’m exhausted and ready to go back into my office. LOL
Mondays are like a flower bud, slowly opening to reveal the bright bloom of the rest of the week. On Mondays the color is bright, the petals soft and vibrant, and the sweet scent is still strong. As the week ages, so does the bloom. It’s why we try so many tricks to make Wednesdays and Thursdays more interesting. Hump day and Throw-back Thursday serve to mask the wilting week and give us something to think about other than the fact that the water around our flower is getting slimy. LOL
Fridays are a whole different animal. On Fridays we finally throw out the wilted, sad little bud and look eagerly toward the next phase. Weekends don’t need flowers, they don’t need tricks, they’re like rainbows that draw us in with their innate magic. But by Sunday night we start to anticipate the change again. Sometimes that’s a melancholy thought. Sometimes it’s fat with expectation…but whichever way we view the new week, it’s still a fresh new flower, remanded into our care by Father Time.
So embrace the new bud of this week. Nestle it carefully in your palm. Because every day is a gift and every week is a lesson in maturation. Which makes every moment a blessing.
Happy reading, Everybody!