Mr. Monday

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Mr. Monday rushes ahead of the rising sun to violently wake you and shake you out of your weekend dreams. He laughs heartily as he shoves the alarm clock of routine near your ear so that you jolt upright, angrily too. As you sigh as loud as the clucking roosters strutting by, the rays of the sun smack you upon your smudged face, blinding you with even more taunting rays of "get up."

Out of bed you drag, feet heavy and weary, and your heart pounding sharply at the realization that you must endure another week.... of work, of children, of friendship, of parents, of studies, of doing and doing and doing and doing. Mr. Monday embraces you without your permission and this vile assault upon your life deserves the most brutal punishment. Where is Mr. Friday when you need him? Mocking you, Mr. Monday whispers, "many days away." Your soul eventually begins to weep. How are you going to persist? That is the question you ask while you desire to go back to Sunday and plead for more time. Perhaps, a day in between each day should suffice.

Something speaks to you, though, in the haphazard maneuvering of your getting ready, and in that such moment, you acknowledge that though Mr. Monday barges rudely without invitation, he actually comes with purpose. He brings you life and keeps you occupied. He gives you a reason to look forward to more days, and to revel gleefully at the sight of the misters of the weekend. So, maybe, just maybe, the next time Mr. Monday comes creeping and knocking, you might not frown but rather welcome him into your abode. Then, he may not seem so scary and the old faithful Mr. Monday might become a Happy Monday. "Persist," he cheers.

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