Every week it's the same thing -- people in the elevator bemoaning the appearance of another Monday. I, for one, am sick of it.
Mondays are, to me, filled with a sense of renewal. They are the clean slate upon which we begin each week. Mondays are fresh and clean, with the light wind of the weekend blowing us on toward bigger and better things. Every Monday is a chance to start anew, and to get a jump on the week ahead.
Fridays, on the other hand, are universally welcomed. We have a cliche named for this feeling. Hell, we even have a restaurant chain named in honor of that cliche! But Fridays are, inevitably, the days in which everything comes to a head. All of the stuff we didn't get to during the week finally piles up too high for us to ignore, and we find ourselves at four in the afternoon on Friday, staring down the nose of the evening, waiting for the sky to turn dark with evening's shadow, and realizing that we still have so much to do.
So that's why I welcome the newness of Mondays, and gleefully skip to work when that day comes around. Join me in a cheerful "hurrah for Mondays" -- just stand up, wherever you are, and shout it out. You could even try "hooray" or "huzzah."