I don’t know how you feel about Mondays… Normally, I don’t really bat an eyelash. No biggie. Just another day. S’cool.
And then there was yesterday.
Yesterday’s Monday was a different beast.
I woke up, and felt that overwhelming wave of tiredness that can only come with having too much on the go and in my head, with a side of ‘not enough downtime,’ topped off with staying up way too late watching ‘My Cousin Vinny’ at my in-laws on the weekend. (What can I say, I live on the edge.)
I shuffled aimlessly around the kitchen with bird’s nest hair and too-big slippers, turning on the kettle and despairing over having not had the energy the night before to pre-make my lunch, or put my load of underwear in the dryer (great), and generally lamenting having to face the world feeling less than par for the course. Just when I was letting out a slightly pitiful moan, my husband emerged from upstairs. He was putting on a large sweatshirt that he probably acquired back in high school when it was cool to wear sweatshirts that are way too big for you. As he lifted his arms to pull it over his head, I promptly scooched towards him, put my arms around his waist, my head on his chest, and insisted he let me take up residence in his sweatshirt all day.
Thus began my Monday morning, not wanting to leave the warmth and calm of being inside my husband’s over-sized sweatshirt…No, wearing it myself was not enough. I needed to be in the sweatshirt WHILE he was wearing it.
All I wanted was another day. Please!? Just another weekend day?! Another rest day. A catch-up day. A lazy, napping day.
I was reluctant beyond measure to rejoin the hustle and bustle, so, just to see if anyone else felt the same way, I took to the good old ‘interwebs.’
Enter the morning Facebook status update:
“If I may, I’d like to put forth a proposal for a new way to structure the week.
Thursday…and then Friday again…You get my drift.
Who has the power to make this happen? Let’s talk. “
Now, one of the driving forces for creating this blog was to forge a connection between all of us who may be feeling or going through very similar things, but may sense we are alone in what we are experiencing or processing. Since I can only share my own perspective, I figured it might be useful to take the lessons and stories that I am working through and drawing from in my own life, and use the written word in the hopes that it will knit us all together, and give us permission to find our very human inner voices and say ‘Oh man. I TOTALLY get this.’
Well, by the end of the day yesterday, 37 people clearly got that Sunday 2 MUST happen.
And when people “GET” something, the mission is clear: Write about it. Tomorrow. 😉
If you know me well, you will know that I would rather have a deep, heartfelt conversation with a small, intimate group (or even just one, bosom-buddy person) than have a rockin’ party with every single person I’ve ever met, ever. It doesn’t mean I don’t love and/or respect every person I’ve ever met, it just means that you will get a much better part of me if we spend quality time one on one.
Read: I’d rather have something deep and meaningful to share than share something that has no substance.
But here’s the thing:
By 5:15 PM yesterday, I felt as though the vast array of feelings my day had provided me with were very real, complex and so deep and meaningful they were bordering on bottomless.
I had felt that fine edge of standing on the precipice of the unknown, of knowing that there are times in life that we have to let go of what we have been holding on to to allow more of what we truly desire in…even if it means feeling ‘secure.’
I had felt surprise, and that feeling of readiness being an illusion…that we are never really prepared for anything, even when we make the decisions that forge our own pathway to change.
I had to remind myself to stay connected with the part of me that knows better than ‘the fear.’
I had felt gratitude for a group of amazing women who have been such a big part of my life to date, and for having trusted myself enough 2 years ago to recognize that where I was being guided was absolutely where I was meant to be.
I had grown hot with the embarrassment of starting my day (and my week) with unexpected tears…punctuated by the popping of a belt that spontaneously sprang off my dress as I was talking to my boss…(Classy.)
So. many. feelings…So. Messy.
Though I still maintain that Sunday 2 is a great substitution for Monday, had yesterday not found me in a ‘Monday state of mind’ (which took me to some pretty real places in the depth of my own heart) I wouldn’t have also discovered 3 equally as important (and not nearly as deep) things that really did wonders to lift my spirits:
1) Sometimes, you need a DQ Blizzard. You just do. Haters gonna hate and judgers gonna judge. And also, it would appear that DQ Blizzards cure hiccups. Yes, even cases that persist for well over an hour.
Bonus points: Allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to hiccup loudly in front of the DQ employee and risk her judging you for potentially being a drunkard (even when you’re not).
2) If you are open to near-peeing your pants with laughter, ask Siri to read your text messages that contain Emojis. If you’re too tired to workout or whatever, this will work your abs too. And yes, what made me laugh hardest was Siri’s deadpan delivery of my favourite Emoji by a longshot: “smiling pile of poo.” (It’s true, I’m really just a 9 year old in a 31 year old body.)
“Mochi Balls on Skewer” was a close second.
Bonus points: If Siri asks you what you’d like to reply to this message and all you can do is cackle louder, aim for making a noise that sounds like “Louis” and spontaneously makes Siri pull up a Wikipedia listing online for “Louis XIV.”
3) Shift your perspective. Not even my own husband can see why I have always seen those hunting decals on trucks as a ‘dancing scorpion devil.’ Seriously, am I the only one who sees this!?
Bonus points: To prove your point and illustrate what you see, try your best to imitate the position of said ‘dancing scorpion devil’ in public, and if they don’t get the point right it away, do this multiple times, each with more emphasis and expression than the last.
By now, you’ve probably figured out that none of the above items are terribly important, or deep. Heck, they don’t even really make sense and are absolutely 100% not founded in science or reason…but they made a day that had a tearful start have a tearful end — through deep, smiling-until-your-face-hurts, belly-clutching laughter.
I still have faith that Sunday 2 will come to be. But for now, Monday will be the day of the week to remind me of how even in the most chaotic or uncertain of times, life can be so downright, wonderfully ridiculous.
Ups, downs, ins and outs… They just are what they are. And if you take a moment (and a breath) and realize this, then you’re going to be just fine — like, ‘smiling pile of poo’ kind of OK.
Samuel Beckett said it much more eloquently (mostly because it’s in French):
“Quand on est dans la merde jusqu’au cou, il ne reste plus qu’à chanter.”
Translation: “When we’re up to our necks in shit, there’s nothing left to do but sing.”