Mondays are usually my favorite day of the week. To me, they’re like New Year’s Day or the beginning of each season—they’re the start of a brand new week.
I get to start at the top of my to-do list. I get a do-over. I get to chart a new course. Was I a slug last week? I can change that and add oomph to my productivity. Was I cranky this past weekend? I can be extra nice, cook a special dinner, bake “please forgive me” cookies. Was last week particularly rough? I can take a deep breath and appreciate the fact that I made it through, knowing that this week has to be easier.
Anything can happen.
Sure, they’re also nice because everyone leaves for work and school, giving me a nice peaceful house, but that’s an added bonus. It’s nice to take in the quiet, reset my brain, feed the introvert in me before I have to smile and jump into the much-loved chaos of family.
Except this week, Monday is not my most favorite day. There are things I must do that I’ve been dreading, and Monday is not making me happy. This Monday is the end of the anticipation. After today, I’ll be done, I’ll have my answers, and I’ll be able to make a new plan.
So I’m going to look ahead to Tuesday. Tuesday is going to be my do-over day. Because after today, everything really will be brand new and different. And twenty-four hours can only last so long.