Monday Hates You Too

There are few things in life that unite people more than complaining about Monday.

No matter where you live, what you do, or how old you are, Monday somehow manages to become the villain of the week. By Sunday afternoon, people already start posting dramatic messages online. They talk about “Sunday Scaries,” complain about work tomorrow, and act as if Monday personally broke into their house and stole their happiness.

But maybe we should stop for a second and ask a very important question:

What does Monday think about us?

Because honestly, if Monday could talk, I do not think it would be very nice.

We spend so much time blaming Monday for everything. We act like it is some cruel enemy that appears every week only to ruin our lives. But Monday is just a day. It shows up on time, every single week, without fail. Meanwhile, we are the ones hitting snooze seven times, dragging ourselves out of bed like we just survived a natural disaster, and walking around with the energy of an unplugged lamp.

Monday is not the problem.

We are.

Think about it. Monday arrives after two days of questionable decisions. We stay up too late on Friday because “the weekend just started.” On Saturday, we somehow get even less sleep because we think we are still twenty years old. Then on Sunday night, instead of preparing for the week, we lie in bed watching videos of people cleaning carpets, restoring rusty frying pans, or making tiny houses in the middle of the forest.

And somehow Monday is supposed to fix all of that.

Poor Monday never had a chance.

We treat Monday like the villain in a cheap horror movie. The music changes. The lights go dark. Everyone panics. But Monday is really just standing there, confused, holding a cup of coffee, wondering why everyone is so dramatic.

Friday gets all the love.

Friday walks into the room like a celebrity. People smile when Friday arrives. They make plans. They go out. They post photos of pizza, drinks, movie nights, and sunsets. Friday gets compliments, attention, and excitement.

Monday gets cold coffee and complaints.

Nobody says, “Finally! Monday is here!”

Nobody throws a party because Monday arrived.

Nobody posts a photo of themselves in sweatpants at 6:30 in the morning with the caption: “Living my best Monday life.”

Instead, Monday gets blamed for everything. Bad mood? Monday. Tired? Monday. Forgot your lunch? Monday. Opened your emails and saw 47 unread messages? Definitely Monday.

At this point, Monday probably feels personally attacked.

Imagine being hated by millions of people every single week for something that is not even your fault.

Imagine doing your job, showing up on time, and being greeted by people who look like they have not slept since the 90s.

That is Monday’s reality.

And to be fair, Monday probably hates some things about us too.

Monday hates the way we promise ourselves every Sunday night that “this week will be different.”

This week, we will wake up early.

This week, we will drink more water.

This week, we will eat healthy.

This week, we will answer emails on time.

This week, we will finally become organized adults.

Then Monday morning arrives, and by 9:01 a.m., we are already looking for the fastest possible way to Friday.

Monday also hates the way we expect too much from it.

We treat Monday like a magical reset button. We expect it to fix our sleep schedule, our eating habits, our unfinished tasks, our messy desk, our unopened emails, and our entire life.

That is a lot of pressure for one day.

No wonder Monday looks tired.

If Monday had a face, I imagine it would have permanent dark circles under its eyes and an expression that says, “Really? Again?”

Because every week we do the same thing.

We ignore Monday.

We complain about Monday.

We count down until Friday.

Then suddenly Sunday night comes back around, and there is Monday again, standing outside the door like, “Unfortunately for both of us, I am back.”

Maybe the truth is that Monday does not actually hate us.

Maybe Monday is just disappointed.

Disappointed that we keep blaming it for problems we created ourselves.

Disappointed that we act surprised every week, even though Monday has been arriving at the exact same time our entire lives.

Disappointed that we never give it a chance.

Or maybe Monday really does hate us a little bit.

Honestly, I would understand.

Perhaps it is time for a truce.

Maybe we should stop treating Monday like our personal enemy and start treating it like an awkward coworker we do not really like, but still have to respect.

Because Monday is not going anywhere.

It will keep showing up every week, tired of our nonsense, tired of our excuses, and tired of being blamed for everything.

And maybe that is the real relationship we have with Monday.

Not love.

Not friendship.

Just a mutual, respectful hatred that somehow keeps the world spinning.

GK