Did you know that more heart attacks and sudden death occur on Mondays than any other day of the week?
Yikes! It’s not just a common mantra about folks hating Monday. That day actually kills you!
Okay, so the day itself doesn’t. But our perception of it sure does. How often do you say after messing something up, “Well, it is Monday.” Or when things go awry later in the week, “It sure feels like Monday.” Monday being a demon is just encoded into our vernacular, and our psyches.
Researchers have found a surge of stress hormones (that dreaded cortisol and adrenalin) in working folks on Mondays. And amazingly enough, participants in the study showed enhanced arrhythmias on Mondays even if they no longer worked!
Dr. Stephen Sinatra attributed this to “. . . your body always remembers and anticipates stressful events.”
So why are Mondays so problematic? Here are my top 10 reasons:
- That stinking alarm clock. I don’t know about you, but I hate the danged thing. Hate the sound—and yes, I’ve tried those transitional ones where waves slosh, etc., to gently wake you up. Made me hate the sound of waves for a while.
Mainly, I just want to sleep until I get up. And the funny thing is, my waking time on weekends isn’t that much later than during the week!
Perception is reality.
- It’s no longer Sunday. I love Sundays. Don’t you? If I’m home I love not having a clock to watch, feeding dogs, getting coffee, then sitting in the floor with them having a puppy-love fest while watching Chuck Todd (I confess, I am a polywonk). Often I’m off to a dog show or hunt test or training, all with great friends.
Monday’s alarm just means another week will pass before that happens!
- Work has reproduced on my desk like rabbits over the weekend.
How can that be? I mean, I cleared my desk Friday evening before shutting down for the weekend. Didn’t you? So how do piles arrive there as if by magic?
Demons. I’m quite sure demons see how much fun we’re having and turn one piece of paper into twenty while we’re sleeping. Time to get one of those ghost alarms and catch ‘em.
And I love what I do!
- No more sitting in the puppy room with babies. I have an 8-week-old litter of Labrador puppies right now. Have I told you how precious they are? Well then, let me . . . Okay, okay. But the puppy breath! And then they run around like banshees and fly into my lap and . . . Okay, okay.
And that title isn’t exactly correct anyway. I can’t help myself from sitting in their box and having them crawl all over me. Oh, about a hundred times a day. I just can’t sit there all day as I can on Sunday if I want.
- No more just sitting on my butt and lollygagging. Okay, so I sit on my butt almost all day, but that’s different. That’s work. I mean the kind of hanging out where again, that clock isn’t constantly ticking.
You know that feeling. When the body relaxes (banishing that cortisol to Hell!) and bliss hormones take over. Ah . . . I can feel them now. Can’t you?
- A big fat white blank computer screen.
I truly feel for folks who get writer’s block. I know it’s real, like the bird flu or something. But it’s not a virus I get (thank you, God!).
Still, the screen glares at me to begin the week, shouting in a frenetic voice how much needs to be written over the course of the next 5 days.
I’m sure you know that feeling—you look at what must be produced over the week and think, a cruise would be nice right now . . .
- Time again to eat healthy. Not that I don’t most of the time, but weekends are free days for me. I used to be a fitness trainer (oh, the litany of jobs writers do when starving! LOL), and my system of nutrition was (and is) based on the 80-20 Rule: Eat healthy 80 percent of the time and then eat whatever the heck you want the rest. Since math is hard, I just translate that to mean weekends are free.
I don’t believe in diets, but I do eat pretty low on the food chain—lots of vegetables, etc. And I love that. But now and then that old greasy hamburger and fries calls my name! And if it does on Monday, I have to beat it on the head until Saturday. Of course, often by then I’m craving crab legs or something.
- I miss my friends. Don’t you? Typically we see or talk to them on weekends, and while co-workers can be great, I miss hanging out with close friends and laughing and having a glass of wine or two and . . . well, you know. And it’s not like I can’t talk them during the week, but those 2-hour phone calls (which of course men can’t begin to understand, preferring a root canal to talking on the phone to anybody for that length of time) won’t happen again until the week is done. Oh, I spend some evenings that way, but still.
- I’m not a pirate. This fact becomes blatantly austere in the Monday-morning light. It’s a fantasy of mine, you know? I’m sure you have one equally as insane, and sometimes those seem actually achievable on weekends (especially when the wine is flowing!).
But I talk about it with my friends, especially when times are hard, and only in a half-joking manner. I mean, can’t you see it? Sailing the high seas, robbing from the rich to give to the poor (okay, so a few metaphors were mixed here), Labradors on the bow facing the wind like some Kings of the World!
Next lifetime, I suppose.
- It’s just friggin’ Monday. And you can’t get around the fact. Okay, so you can, but lying to yourself will make you neurotic, and who has time for that? I mean, when you go batty, you don’t get your work done and that means possibly having to work the weekend and horrors! Perish the thought.
So, might as well buckle down and dive in.
The good news is, as soon as I do that, I’m smiling and laughing and happy again. Because I really do love what I do!
How do you get through your Mondays?