Random thoughts on a Monday morning...
What is so sad about a Monday morning?
Assuming one sleeps an average 8 hours a night, 30% of the week is spent in sleep. In the remaining 70%, hardly 24% is spent at work. In a whole week of a little more than what we sleep is spent at work.
Come Friday, most of our emotions peak looking forward to the weekend. When it is Saturday evening already, and we think, "Wow! What did we do the whole day?". Sunday morning, a mournful one. Somehow seems like that last day on Earth. We clutch desperately to our sheets and comforters, like there's no tomorrow. Then comes a very sad Sunday evening, haunted with memories of sad and tragic movies, that relive in our minds for no obvious reason. And then there is that dreaded Monday morning again.
Week after week, the Fridays keep giving us hope and the Mondays keep letting us down. With everything about this being so predictable, why do we still let ourselves be deceived by the hope for a longer weekend? Hoping the weekday never begins...
All this on a Monday morning, at a light that would just simply refuse to turn green. Maybe, it was feeling blue too!
I looked around me. On both the lanes by my side were sad faces reflecting my same thoughts, no matter how interetsing their jobs, sipping away their coffee, hoping the caffeine could wake their spirits, wishing, wishing, and wishing...
The signal just turned green and the row of wheels inched ahead, and right when I was close to the intersection, it turned red again. Well, a little happiness, a few more minutes.
Monday morning...The only time a traffic jam seems to be a bliss.
Assuming one sleeps an average 8 hours a night, 30% of the week is spent in sleep. In the remaining 70%, hardly 24% is spent at work. In a whole week of a little more than what we sleep is spent at work.
Come Friday, most of our emotions peak looking forward to the weekend. When it is Saturday evening already, and we think, "Wow! What did we do the whole day?". Sunday morning, a mournful one. Somehow seems like that last day on Earth. We clutch desperately to our sheets and comforters, like there's no tomorrow. Then comes a very sad Sunday evening, haunted with memories of sad and tragic movies, that relive in our minds for no obvious reason. And then there is that dreaded Monday morning again.
Week after week, the Fridays keep giving us hope and the Mondays keep letting us down. With everything about this being so predictable, why do we still let ourselves be deceived by the hope for a longer weekend? Hoping the weekday never begins...
All this on a Monday morning, at a light that would just simply refuse to turn green. Maybe, it was feeling blue too!
I looked around me. On both the lanes by my side were sad faces reflecting my same thoughts, no matter how interetsing their jobs, sipping away their coffee, hoping the caffeine could wake their spirits, wishing, wishing, and wishing...
The signal just turned green and the row of wheels inched ahead, and right when I was close to the intersection, it turned red again. Well, a little happiness, a few more minutes.
Monday morning...The only time a traffic jam seems to be a bliss.
1 Comments:
Looks like it is the Friday feelings that makes Monday feelings ! I think our week should be continuous. The break should be managed by the closer of that particular work. And starting of the next work should start the activity again. But we got used to this weekly routine habit.
The Scientist, the writers never take the weekends as a stop point. It is the Eureka moments give them some pause. But as noticed the Red controls the busy traffic! These Red points gives time for socialisation... if it exists...otherwise no stop points...
Ram
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