Everybody seems to dislike Sundays. It’s almost universal. It should be a good, restful day but somehow it’s ruined by the sad realisation that the weekend is past its mid-point and by the painful anticipation of the approaching Monday. I wanted to say it’s more of a self-fulfilled prophecy created by our glass-half-empty imaginations than anything else. But I’m an optimistic person who likes Mondays, and I’m still mysteriously affected by the Sunday blues.

And yes, go figure, I do like Mondays. Being a self-employed freelance workaholic, I don’t have to go out and face the weather to go to work and I love what I do, so what’s there to hate? Monday is the start of a shinny new week, still pristine and unspoiled, full of promise. A “New Week’s Day” that even comes with its own set of mental New Week’s resolutions as you repeat for yourself that this is the week where you get things done. Beautiful days, Mondays.

Now Fridays… how can people not agree that it’s the worst day of the week? If you work hard all week, by Friday you’re begging for mercy. But a load of urgent things fall onto your lap (laptop in my case) and suddenly the deadlines you set yourself join forces with the ones set by other people to guilt-trip you into a stressful rage. And when the work day is over, you’re desperate to out and clear your head, but way too tired to enjoy it properly.

Friday isn’t the traditional bad luck day for nothing… I might wake up not knowing what day of the week it is, but I’m violently reminded when I find out the internet is not working, the computer crashes ten times in a row, or the phone rings non-stop with requests and bad news. Friday is cursed, jinxed, doomed to chaos.

And then we come to wonderful Saturday… fun, free, relaxed, and best of all: it’s a full week away from the next Friday!