I like Mondays.
Sometimes I feel like I am the only one. Certainly, there are enough songs about how bad Mondays are:
“Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down”
“Just Another Manic Monday”
Maybe I’d feel different about Mondays if I had to leave here and go somewhere else all day. Is that it? Does everyone just dread where they’re going so much, that they begin to hate the day?
Mondays, to me, are a fresh start to a new week. They’re starting the day with a “trashed from the weekend” house and spending time making visible progress. They’re a new page in the planner (I am SUCH a calendar geek). Mondays are full of laundry and full of potential.
I try not to do more housework than necessary on Sundays. I cook and clean up from meals. But unless there’s some kind of crisis that affects laundry, or requires immediate vacuuming or mopping, I leave that work until Monday. Sunday is my day of rest in that respect.
But normally I am not overwhelmed on Monday (Thursdays are another story–if I haven’t gotten a good head start on the week!) I welcome the day and the chance for a new start at making a warm and cozy home for my family. I welcome the routine, after the weekend’s open-endedness–since I can be flexible for just so long before I start to lose my grip–and feel ready to jump back into my familiar world, my home and my family.