Earlier this week I ran into a coworker in the hallway:
Me: “What’s going on? You doing good?”
Coworker: “Yeah, except it’s not Friday!”
Me, thinking internally: “What the fuck but it’s only Tuesday?!”
I get it, we all rather be doing something else than being at work. Our lives outside of it should rightfully be way more exciting. But the reality is, we all have to work. This whole free-market, division-of-labor thing kind of demands it. I simply cannot fathom the mentality of returning to work on a Monday, only to already look forward to the coming Friday.
Isn’t that a tacit admission that you won’t be happy until the weekend comes? The return on that investment really sucks if we’re only happy for 28% of the year (not including holidays and vacations.) That’s like promising yourself a happy and peaceful living only after retirement. Before then you’re simply miserably doing the work for three decades to reach that goal. There are those kind of coworkers, too: the can’t-wait-until-retirement type.
Of course, I think it’s healthy to have something cheerful to look forward to. Hopes and dreams keeps us all moving in a positive direction. However, it’s counterproductive if it forsakes happiness in the interim. The majority of our week is our employment. I’m not saying we have to enjoy it, but it’s important to find joy in it. Two days of a weekend is too fleeting. And guess what, you’re going to have to do it all over again come Monday.
Let’s not skip over life, halting our contentment until some euphoric endpoint. Be mindful always of what’s ultimately and the very end: death. When I say I love Mondays, I really mean it. Because I love all the days.
Fine arts.