Monday to Friday have always received a bad rap because they are considered days of the working week. Monday gets the worst treatment because it happens right after the weekend…who can blame anyone for not liking the idea of going back to work after a weekend of being outdoors, hanging with friends, not shaving for two days and maybe even sleeping in?
As an aspiring “Enlightened Male”, I have tried to think differently of Monday to Friday because they are still five days of the week and if we only live our lives for the weekend, we are missing out on those five days.
Regardless…I do enjoy the feeling of Saturday and Sunday mornings…especially during the summer. That is when there is even less of a rush to get going in the morning. Normally, our younger daughter has to be up at a decent hour on Sundays because she attends religious school and we have to get her there, on time by 9:30. So when school is out for the summer, I am thrilled.
The need to “get moving” isn’t as critical and we all tend to move at our own pace. I have been known to get going first…mostly driven by a need to use the bathroom (if the truth be told)…I figure, once I am up…I am up.
I make my way down stairs to a very quiet house. I put the kettle on and prepare coffee for my wife and I. Sometimes I meditate for 15 minutes..other times, I bring the newspapers inside and begin to plow through them. Coffee is poured and I am into the second or third section of the newspaper by the time my wife makes her way to the main floor.
Unlike me, she always feels obligated to get things done on the weekends…specifically, the laundry – whose flow is never ending (mostly because of our two children. I guess its easier to toss not so dirty laundry into the hamper then it is to fold it up and put it away).
So, when my wife comes down and proceeds to the basement to start the first load of laundry, I head back to the kitchen to get her coffee prepared.
She joins me in our living room…or if the weather is really nice…we adjourn to the porch to continue our morning routine in the great outdoors.
Somewhere around an hour later, we will hear the footsteps of our younger daughter Annie, as she runs from her bedroom to the upstairs den..to begin her weekend morning ritual of cartoons or other programs that she enjoys watching. Its usually only when she is hungry or if we call out to her that she finds us downstairs.
By about 10 or 10:30, our teenaged daughter finally descends to the main floor…usually half asleep and more times than not uttering the words “I am hungry, what can I eat” before she plunks herself down on the sofa.
On Saturdays and Sundays…we find one another. I like how these days start because they are a slow build. The pace isn’t “0-100” like it is Monday to Friday when we all have places to be and traffic to endure.
The weekends are different. I always scratch my head in wonderment when I hear stories of parents who have their children “programmed up the ying-yang” on the weekends. The mad dash that they encounter from Monday to Friday seems to spill over into the weekend too.
I know we are all free to do our own thing. However, why would I want to subject my family to the same kind of fast-paced, stress-riddled intensity on Saturday and Sunday, when we have just come off of 5 days of that nonsense?
There has been a lot of discussion in the media recently about how we in the big city are so uptight and don’t know what it means to just chill. I fantasize about the idea of a four day work-week or a regular mandatory monthly long weekend so us wound-up-tighter-than-a-drum city dwellers can have ample time to really relax and undo our knots and not simply used the weekends to catch up on stuff that we can’t do during the week because we are so darn busy. Some kind of change to the work week or what we have historically defined as the work week will allow us to live life at a pace that doesn’t make us sick or stressed.
Do I think this will ever happen? Highly unlikely. But it is always nice to dream.