This is what I look like after a long, hard Monday. When your teachers used to tell you that they loved the weekends/vacations more than you, they really meant it. Like, really.
On a related note, I really need to start brushing my hair sometime during the day.
Isn't it interesting that we, as a society, get really excited every December 31 to make goals and resolutions and (sometimes empty) promises, but we essentially get a new start every week when Monday rolls around and WE ABSOLUTELY HATE IT. There is no excitement in the newness of a week or seven days of endless possibilities.
Monday comes and we despise it.
We want it to be Friday already. We want to skip ahead and forget about potential and just be done with it. But seriously, how depressing would it be if we did this every December. If all we could talk about in January is December? Ugh. Just thinking about it makes me feel sad. I wouldn't want to hang out with that guy.
(actually, knowing myself, i'd probably end up dating that guy. #issues)
I do this. I totally fall into this trap. I go to sleep Sunday night dreading the responsibility that comes the next morning. Waking up at 6 am? I'm not excited about that. But I mean, I probably should be. Because it is also a fresh start, with moments to be made and goals to be reached. After all, we have to do those New Years resolutions sometime...probably on a day or two.
So really, while I'm not encouraging all night partying and kissing strangers at midnight every single night (but hey, do what you do), I don't think it'd be so bad to just love Mondays a little more. They're aight.
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