Mondays are my favorite day of the week. It’s probably due to the fact that I work from home. I distinctly remember hating Mondays (and Sundays from about 4 pm on) when I was a student and then when I worked in an office. But ever since I started working from home, I love Mondays. The house settles down, it’s quiet and I can get back into my routine.
It’s not that I don’t love my family. I do. And I love spending time with them doing things on the weekend I don’t normally do on during the week. But I crave my routine and my me-time, and Mondays give those things back to me. So my Sunday evenings are spent mentally planning my productivity for the next day.
In fact, yesterday, I took an exceptionally slow day and didn’t worry about getting anything done. I wanted to relax, everyone else was busy, and I figured that a day of relaxation was good for me. I could just be extra productive on Monday.
And then life happened. My youngest has been lactose intolerant, but without symptoms, for years now. And last night, she decided to try a meal she hadn’t had in a really long time. She asked me if I thought it would be okay, and I stupidly said yes. She’d had all the components before without incident. And she did great for about two hours. And then she most certainly did not do great.
I won’t go into details, but we were both up most of the night. This morning, bleach and coffee are my friends (ginger ale and crackers are hers). And that productivity I was looking forward to? Well, that’s going to have to happen tomorrow.
Hey, maybe Tuesday will become my favorite day? I’ll sure get a lot less weird looks when I talk about it!