Think about how you feel on the weekends, and how the tightness everywhere in your body softens when you do. It’s like taking off a tight t-shirt, or pants that you’ve somehow squeezed into. It’s relaxing. Every time I think about the weekend, I feel a subtle release in my stomach and chest. It’s as though someone has taken their grip off of my stomach and said ‘relax’, and I realize there is no reason I can’t feel like this every single day of my life.

Last week I experimented with this. At least one time every day, I closed my eyes, and told myself it was the weekend. I felt that subtle release in my stomach and chest, and it felt wonderful. When I got to work, I pretended that the office was a large apartment and all of my coworkers were my roommates. I pretended we were all just working on our favorite things, and that whatever everyone else was doing, was something they all wanted to be doing, and came here to do. I pretended that we were all slobs, slaving away at our passions in our pajamas, with no responsibilities to do anything we didn’t want to do. That we could just sit in our rooms and not give a single living fuck.

This was hard. It was hard because we have been wired since God knows when to separate work from fun, weekdays from weekends, and colleagues from friends. We have been trained to think of Mondays as shit, and to be so completely depressed when the weekend is over. And it takes so much effort to see the weekday as something other than what it is, because everyone looks at it the same way. It’s almost like you are an outsider, and a crazy one at that. But believe me when I say that you can walk around like every day is the weekend, because no one can do shit about it. No matter what people say to you, they will never be able to touch what lies within you. They will never, ever, be able to reach down and physically stick their fingers down your throat and into your soul, if that’s even where it resides, and make you think or feel anything you don’t want to think or feel.

But yes, it is hard. During my experiment, I want to say that only about twice a day was I able to 100% relax as though it were the weekend, and those two times a day lasted about 30 seconds each. It was extremely difficult, because you can’t just stop thinking a certain way in the span of a single week. It’s like, you can’t just run a marathon by training for a few days. It’s a process. You have to work your way up to it. You have to run a mile or two every day, or every other day, until you build up the strength to run 26 of them. So you know what? You have to think like it’s the weekend two times a day, for 30 seconds each, until you can live out the whole day like it’s the weekend, or the whole week for that matter. And you have to literally exert a metric shit ton of effort to think this way, but the best part about this kind of effort is that it’s not tiring. I’ll tell you what’s tiring, thinking Monday is shit every week, because you have to work and you don’t get to do what you want. That’s fucking tiring. What’s not tiring is the weekend, and there is absolutely no reason you can’t feel like you do on the weekend during the week. It’s you that’s preventing yourself from thinking that it’s all one long Saturday, because people tell you it’s not, and they are tired.

Don’t listen to tired people. Listen to yourself. If you say it’s Saturday, it’s fucking Saturday. If you want to think for one second that this is crazy talk, just remember that someone was responsible for creating Mondays, someone with a heart, lungs, elbows, and knee caps. Someone just like you. So if it was just another simple human that created these Mondays, and these stupid feelings about them, then you can be another simple human and uncreate them just as easily. Someone made up the bad feelings that you have, but there’s no real estate for made up feelings in your heart and mind. And pretty soon you start feeling sorry for everyone that hates Monday, because they are doing what they’re told, and that’s never any fun.

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Monique Muro

Monique is an exceedingly happy human from LA. She runs the blog A Novel Quest, and writes. A lot.

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