I started hating Mondays around the time I was 5 and my rotten parents forced me into kindergarten. I didn't understand why my days suddenly went from doing pretty much what I liked-- hanging with my mom, catching lady bugs, making mud pies with my little sister, wandering around the fields that surrounded our house-- to being locked up in a room with 20 other noisy children, who I had no desire to socialize with but I had to, if I was going to survive. I was one of those children who sobbed inconsolably and refused to let go of my mother in front of the door the first day of kindergarten, and I think I may have done that in first grade too. I remember seeing other children march proudly into the class with no tears at all, and I knew I looked like a baby, and I didn't care one bit. This sucked and I wasn't going to pretend that it didn't.
School was always a trial for me, starting with that first day of kindergarten. And the reason why I didn't like school was pretty simple: I like doing my own thing, all the time. In public school you are only allowed to do your own thing in very brief, scheduled periods of time. And as soon as you are really into whatever you are doing, it's time to put it away and resume group lessons in Idaho history or what x equals when y=6. What I most liked to do while in school was read books, and I perfected the art of jamming an open book between my knees and the bottom of my desk, then putting my head in my hands while supposedly looking down at the open textbook on top of my desk, and using my long hair as cover for my eyes, which were not on my desk, but on the open book in my lap. Most of my teachers just thought my biggest problem was not paying attention, while my fourth grade teacher told my mother I "read too much."
So, Mondays had a taint for me my entire childhood, since Monday always represented getting back to the forced march of Learning, and hanging around a bunch of people I'd rather not spend any time with, often including my teachers. I think a lot of adults hate Mondays because it represents getting back to a job they don't like. But, I like my job, and I still hate Mondays. I've never questioned my right to hate Mondays until recently, when I started thinking about how Mondays represent about 14% of my life. And it seems like a waste to hate so much of life. So, I started breaking down what it is specifically that I hate about Mondays, and I realized it's just getting back into the swing of things after a nice, two day break.
One of the things I learned about the Netherlands while I was there is that Mondays are kind of like Sundays. Stores open later, like noon-ish, and life is slow in general. Here in the States, we are way too industrious and hard-working to take it easy on a Monday. In fact, we are obligated to work harder to make up for the fact that we just took two days off. I usually roll into a Monday with a big list of stuff that needs to get done in one hand and a can of kick-ass in the other. And, I must say, I usually don't get that much done, because I'm not really in the mood after two days of relaxation. And because I'm American, I get mad at myself for slacking, when really, I need to be more Dutch and not bother myself with hating Monday, but instead sleep in, wander into the studio at noon, and work on stuff at a slower pace. I'm trying out this new method today.
tuesday’s girl: unexpected preppy.
13 hours ago