There. I said it.

Yes, I dislike Mondays. They’re so far away from Fridays and even farther away from Saturday mornings when I can be sleeping when it’s not pitch dark. And they’re too close to the memory of sleeping in on Sunday and then doing whatever I feel like, including staying in bed with the covers over my head pretending it’s still dark out.

Sometimes Monday is a payday, which makes for a better than usual Monday, but that was not today’s Monday. Nor is that next Monday. In fact, the next Monday-Payday isn’t until June 15th.

From time to time, Mondays are a holiday and then I am in charity with the day and I can say, Tuesday — Blech. (as a stand in for Monday. I think we’re all well aware that such a Tuesday is really Monday in disguise. A meta-Monday, if you will.) But a holiday Monday doesn’t come around all that often. The next one’s not until the end of May. Sigh.

Carolyn’s Ode to Mondays – In Free Verse Just for Joyce Kilmer and the New York Times Review of Books^*

Mondays — Blech
As a General Rule,
I dislike you Monday
You have goopy eyes
And bitter breath
Your hair is a tangle
And the pillow left
A crease down the right
Side of your face
Your nose is crooked
You stole 15 of my
Twenty winks.
I want them back.
But not at lunch or
In the Boring MONDAY
Meeting when people
Will notice I’m
asleep.

My nose hits the table.

Ouch.

I’m awake now.

Mondays.
You are NOT my friend.

1. The poet Joyce Kilmer was an editor of New York Times Book Review (or maybe it was that whole Sunday supplement) anyway, he HATED prose poetry. People like Ezra Pound and H.D. and others got him all in a twist and he managed to fill pages will all sorts of invective against Free Verse. Not that I don’t kind of admire him and mourn his death in WWI. What a waste that was. I think we would have seen some really astounding things from him had he lived.

P.S. I am not procrastinating.