I always want Mondays to be a lighter lift than they end up being.
I am not going to calculate how many working Mondays I’ve had in my life, but even before I was working, I had a Garfield-esque disdain for the day. Not pathological, exactly, but persistent enough that it feels like one of those things I simply know about myself. I struggle with transitions, and Monday is the day that wrenches me most abruptly from one mode into another: weekend to workweek, spaciousness to schedules, vague possibility to the tyranny of the calendar.
