
Why do I dread Mondays? Many consider it the worst day of the week. They rage against returning to an imposed structure and set of expectations following a weekend of freedom and fun. The sorry truth is my weekends typically end up even more tightly structured and unforgiving than my work week.
Society encourages us to cram an impossible number of events into only two days. There’s the shopping and the household chores, friends to see, bills to pay, side hustles to sustain, and hobbies to pursue. It turns out, the perception of a slower-paced, carefree weekend filled with Hallmark moments is sheer fantasy. By Sunday night, I find myself exhausted.
Contrary to common consensus, I consider every Monday as the micro-level equivalent to New Year’s Day. And if I’m honest with myself, the apprehension is a thin veil covering an exuberant sense of anticipation and excitement for the possibilities that lie ahead. What I dread is the inevitable anxious feeling created by my fear that I will somehow mess it all up.
Did you write yesterday? Are you writing today?
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you for sharing. ❄❄❄
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