Mondays Are Still The Worst Even In A Pandemic

Turns out, Mondays suck all the time.

Currently unemployed, the days have all blended together. Yet the weekend still has a different feel than the weekdays. While we don’t go out or see friends, we easily can make the excuse not to exercise and be lazier than we normally would be. Weekdays are still for being productive, finding little projects, cleaning, updating websites, etc.

Monday continues to be the worst of them all.

Most days I don’t feel super anxious. It’s odd and surprising but as Georgia Hardstark said on My Favorite Murder, we were kind of prepped for this. We being the anxious ones; the ones with daily panic attacks and who know depression like an old friend. We are used to living on the edge of electrified water, our toes being licked by the waves every so often. We know this feeling well and we know how to handle it.

But Mondays are different.

Every Monday, I get up and go about my day as I do every other weekday. I try and have a list for the week of little things I can achieve simply: reading a certain amount of a book, writing a blog and my newsletter, working on our current puzzle or even watching an episode of a new series someone recommended. They aren’t pressurized and I am able to focus in these short spurts to get them all done by Friday. Even if there is a random Tuesday in there that I don’t do any of them, keeping them short and simple gives me the leeway to let myself rest if my mind is not able to focus.

Then, Monday mid morning, like clockwork, my anxiety creeps up and grabs hold. It clenches my stomach and tightens my chest. I panic about everything. The state of the world, getting sick, never performing again, never finishing my novel. By afternoon, I fall into the ‘why does any of it matter’ phase where I decide to never do anything ever again because what is the point? I think about jobs and health insurance and having a baby and seeing my friends and family again and how I miss theater and museums and rose on a patio. It all piles on me every Monday and I am consumed, paralyzed, and I give up for the day.

Mondays in the past several months were anxiety ridden anyway, I was working a job I wasn’t the biggest fan of and I was constantly anxious that Monday morning would be some terrible experience. Most Mondays went off without a hitch and it was my usual anxiety lying to me as she always does. Now it is confusing because I have plenty of evidence to show how my anxiety is warranted because we are in a pandemic and people are dying and life is very scary. As I said before, I am prepared for this in a strange way. It is almost better having the evidence that I’m anxious for a reason than without one as I usually am.

So why Mondays?

I think because Mondays have always been stressful for us and it is in the mainstream to hate them. Mondays are work. Playtime has ended and real life is back. Monday is real and in your face and you may be waking up earlier than you want to do something you don’t really like. They can truly suck.

I think I am more anxious on Mondays because what made them terrible before does not exist right now. I don’t have to wake up early and wait for a bus that will probably be late. I don’t have to sweat waiting for the subway and pack myself in (god, isn’t it weird how awful that was and now it is even MORE awful to imagine?) I don’t have to eat my mediocre lunch at my desk and wait for the clock to move. I don’t have to wait in line to board the bus at rush hour and get home too exhausted to work on any of my passion projects. I don’t have to dread Mondays because Mondays are the same as every day in self isolation.

I think there is a pressure to Mondays that will always exist. The pressure to perform, to function, to work surfaces even in times when most of us aren’t working or we are working from home. A new week starts and it is full of possibilities! Right now, those possibilities feel few and far between. The pressure still exists but it has no where to go so it steams and steams until it is about to explode. Normally your Monday ends and you’re fine and the steam subsides. A pressure cooker if you will.

The rest of the week, my anxiety stays at bay. It is there and may pop up a few times but nothing like a Monday morning. I went for a walk this Monday and that helped. No one was out and we were able to even pick up Starbucks following all the rules of safety and distancing and not even stepping into the store. My anxiety drifted away as the afternoon faded instead of increasing as it has been. I recognized how Mondays were making me feel and I accept it and understand it. I know how to handle it.

Turns out, Mondays will always suck whether you have a job or are in quarantine or working. Even when I’ve been unemployed under normal circumstances, Mondays suck. Though when I was unemployed before, the promise that a job whether in performing or an office was out there. Now, it isn’t. No wonder I have anxiety every Monday morning.

That first Monday being unemployed feels kinda fun because you don’t have to work and everyone else does. It feels like vacation. Now they are all vacation. This weird, endless vacation that isn’t a vacation because it stopped being fun 55 days ago.

Mondays are still the worst. I guess we can count that as one thing that has stayed normal.