It was the Oirish rocker ‘Sir’ Bob Geldof whose popular beat combo outfit the Boomtown Rats once topped the singles charts with his ditty ‘I don’t like Mondays‘. At the time, which according to Wiki was 1979, so it must be true, I didn’t much like Mondays, either, specifically Monday mornings. Or the Boomtown Rats, come to think of it. The song was about someone called Brenda Spencer who decided one morning to go to the local primary school and murder two adults, injure eight children and a police officer. Asked for an explanation, Spencer told the assembled press that “I don’t like Mondays. This livens up the day.” It didn’t much liven up the day for those who were no longer alive after her ‘shooting spree‘, as I am sure the newspapers of the day would have described it, but I suppose she made her point, albeit in the worst way imaginable.
I never hated Mondays quite that badly, it has to be said. Yes, it was a pain the arse having to rise from my nice warm pit after a weekend of football and alcohol excess, but the young me was aware enough that without the nine till five of regular work there would be no football and alcohol to enjoy to excess.
As I got older and less immature (as opposed to more mature), my dislike of Mondays was gradually overtaken by my dislike of Sunday afternoons, particularly winter Sunday afternoons. I hated the way that everything started to shut down from mid afternoon onwards, although to be fair in the late 1970s and early 1980s there was very little open that could be shut down.
Time always seemed to slow down on a Sunday afternoon, probably because there was literally nowhere to go and nothing to do, at least not until the pubs opened again at 7.00 pm. Sometimes, I would just go to bed early, partly to keep warm in a freezing cold house, but also to get the Sunday afternoon/evening despair out of the way.
Later in life, I found a job I really enjoyed and, to make things even better, the world did not close down on a Sunday afternoon, apart from the supermarkets. And there was a time of around 15 years when I almost relished the start of the new working week. Then, in 2014, I quit the world of full time work forever. I grew to love Mondays.
Now, my days of paid work are over, hopefully forever, unless someone offers me an unlikely paid writing gig. Now, I enjoy the freedom to do exactly what I like on a Monday morning and I can get up when I like. And because I love to start my day with some writing, it’s easier than ever to get out of my pit, no matter what the weather outside is doing.
As I am fond of repeating, ad nauseum, work is overrated. John Lennon didn’t actually come up with the legendary quote, “Life is what happens to us when we are making other plans” – that was the writer Allen Saunders – I would say it’s as accurate a take on life as any I have ever read. In fact, my only regret about quitting the wacky world of full-time work some nine years before my state pension was due was that I didn’t do it before. Despite appearances to the contrary, I am not a complete idiot and I am well aware of the fact that I am not exactly the physical specimen I was, say, 30 years ago. That isn’t going to get any better in the years ahead and given that I do not expect to survive my own death, by going to Heaven or Hell, I’d better do the things I want to do and visit the places I want to go to, before I reach the inevitable stage of infirmity that prevents me doing either.
No amount of money can change that because, I’m sad to say, we are all one stroke or cancer diagnosis away from living an entirely different life. So Mondays, the non work Mondays – well, the non work any days – are always good days now.
I don’t make long term plans anymore. I can afford to do something or go somewhere, I don’t wait. I suspect that it didn’t occur to me for a very long time that my post work life might not be as rewarding as I might have expected it to be. I couldn’t leave everything I wanted in life until much later because of events, dear boy. Events, and not always good events, that could destroy my plans at a stroke, or whatever health hazard might come my way. No. I am trying to live my best life in the here and now because, as I never tire of saying, someday never comes.
Having a shit load of money – say a tidy pay off from work – sounds great, on the face of it, but when was life entirely predictable and straightforward? I have known a good few people who have become the richest people in the graveyard. That person was never going to be me.
I do like Mondays nowadays because it’s the start of another week on this Earth. And as of now, I am well enough to enjoy it and make the best of it. We don’t know how it – life – ends, but we do know that it does. No time to waste dancing someone else’s tune. It could be now or never. Who knows? And that’s the point.
