Monday Blues

It is amazing how the day of the week can have an effect upon your state of mind. Often people speak of the ‘Monday Blues’ or ‘that Friday feeling’.

There are some, just a few, who seem to ride through the week without such a sense; either by being constantly happy or permanently miserable.

Mrs M is convinced that the Monday blues do not affect her; I am quick to point out that this may be due to her not working on this day with the result of merely transferring the feeling to Tuesday.

At this point in our conversation my bride changes the subject towards the jobs at home that she performs in order to prove that she does indeed work on a Monday.

The list was endless and I eventually had to concede, party because I knew I had crossed a line in suggesting that she does not work at the beginning of the week and partly because I was distracted by midweek football on the telly.

It is interesting that each day of the week was named after something significant but has now just become a descriptive word to help us to plan our lives.

So whether Thursday is recognition of the god Thor or Monday is an acknowledgement of the moon is irrelevant to our daily lives.

Perhaps we need to think again about what we call them in light of our effected mood.

Monday could be ‘moan day’ to give understanding to our depressed association with returning to work after the weekend. In a similar way Friday could be designated as an extra day off and be known as ‘free day’.

Altogether a more pleasing way of looking at it I think.

I recently visited France for a few days with work and had the pleasure of meeting some of our fellow Europeans. I had in mind the British preoccupation with feelings being linked to certain days.

I was pleased to note that they too seemed affected in a similar way. At the beginning of the week there was a general lack of motivation visible. By the Friday they were a lot more upbeat as the thought of weekend came in view.

I cannot claim that there is any connection but I did notice that lunchtimes contained more red wine after Thursday than is usual back at home. The only celebration of the weekend that we indulge in is a bacon butty on Friday morning.

Perhaps this is it; for the French they are merry due to wine and we are merry due to eating pig on bread.

On returning from the continent I asked my wife to comment and she concluded teo things: Only a man would wonder about such things and only a man would be excited by the thought of a bacon butty. O Contraire!