Mercy, it’s a weekend

Aww, it’s a Monday again! I have heard that dreadful sigh so many times, every Monday. The only cheer is if it is someone’s birthday or I’m going home that following week. It’s only a Tuesday, damn! The week is so darn slow, only if we realised how cunningly time flies and how ouch it hurts when you know you have not accomplished much in that useless period, except watching people around you and commenting mundane random stuff which is of no significance to whom it may concern. It’s a crisis when Wednesday arrives, you don’t know if you should be happy on the edge of the cliff of a weekend away and the feeling of being right in the middle of the nowhere of a week! According to my roomie, Thursday is the most irritating day in a week, why? Coz it’s a wannabe Friday. Maybe, it is. It is holy also, to some at least. Don’t ask why. Too tired to set the context and in other words, explain. See it’s already Friday.

We all loved to be in school, college and university on all the days, including Sundays for all the "right" reasons we'd love to giggle about. Homework, assignments, library and project work are secondary (laughter!). When it comes to work, we have a “grr” feeling despite a smiling/not smiling pay packet. We celebrate our survival that we have a job as evidence of our existence during the week in happy hours and bitch about uh-oh people, sad state of affairs,sigh! We crib that the nation is going to the dogs. We also tch-tch publicly when a bunch of opium influenced monkeys take up moral guardianship of all Indian women. Yes, all fathers and mothers forgot to make their daughters modest and coy! All these in the span of a week, not bad.

Come Friday, we want to sleep, watch movies, party, get sloshed, recover from the hangover, do grocery shopping, clean the house, read a lil’ and maybe, catch up. By the time the action items get diminished, it’s Sunday afternoon and some of us are already broody that it’s Monday in a few hours, eeks!

It’s almost a universal routine to be sad and serious all through the week, do your bit at work, and attend to the social niceties for the sake of it. It comes naturally to rush over everything and close the day and hide in your den, just like that. During the week, I can also be moody, and you should understand, it’s work pressure. There could be none and the lack of it can kill my identity. So, I simulate there is one and it allows me to be. How sham!

I am at the mercy of a wretched weekend. And all we accomplish is nothing. Pay a maid, she needs the money and you create disguised employment and your weekends are taken care of, at least by what the routine looks like.

Like the Joker quizzically asks, “Why so serious?” And Prufrock says, “I shall grow old …and wear my trousers rolled.” We are growing old. We are in a state of panic, of course. When your life has become a “looking-forward-to-the-weekend”, it is. We need therapy, not on a weekend, please. Let’s make it on a weekday.

I am looking forward to MondayJ, blithe me!

 

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