Hello, my name is Pam, and I am a Monday Lover. It’s not that I don’t like weekends, exactly. But on the weekends I spend a lot of time doing all those household chores — laundry, grocery shopping, weeding — I don’t have time to do during the week. My husband and kids are around, wanting to be cooked for, driven around, and sometimes even communed with.
And then on Monday morning, they all leave. I’m alone, free to work without distraction or interruption. I don’t feel guilty about writing instead of going to the bookstore with my husband or making pasta for my son. And if I sometimes sneak out for lunch with a friend, it’s nobody’s business but my own.
But when I was young, weekends meant fun and freedom and sex, and Monday meant a return to drudgery and imprisonment in some dumb job. Would I go back to that time? No. I love loving Mondays. But I wouldn’t mind loving Saturdays and Sundays a little bit more.