Mondays are tough for me. Plain and simple. Thankfully, because I'm lucky/foolish enough to be a stay at home mom, Saturdays are a lot like Tuesdays except more people are home for lunch. Most of the days of the week are pretty much interchangeable. But Mondays are the only days I know I can count on to feel just like Mondays. I have a maximum of 45 minutes between events 8AM to 10PM. Mondays are the quintessential good news/bad news days. The good news is I'll be busy all day. The bad news is while much is getting done, nothing else is getting done. All of the items on Monday's calendar are in permanent ink. Tutoring at school. Lunch meetings. Afternoon personal trainer. Kids swim lessons. 8PM meeting. I know when I wake up, I'm doing them all. And some days, I just don't want to.
Self-will. The egotistical thought that you can control how your day is going to go, how all the people around you are going to behave, that they all have your best interests at heart. Your, you, I, me - sound familiar. So what do you do when you just don't want to? What are your alternatives to just giving up and giving in? How do you navigate the divide between feeling in control and giving it up?
This is not the place for answers, my friend. I seriously ask these questions of myself - frequently. But here's what I know. I know that if I try and hold it all together, there's no guarantee that it will stay together. The only guarantee is that I'm going to end up exhausted and unfulfilled. I am going to give away my opportunity to feel joy and accomplishment to the slim chance the planets will align and do just what I want.
So give yourself the freedom to just slog through the day. Take from it what you can, lower your expectations. Open your mind to the possibility these few hours might throw you a bone. Be OK with just putting one foot in front of the other. Because it will lead you to the end of that day, eventually. And then you can lay down, acknowledge it wasn't the best, think about what you will try to do better tomorrow and let go of what is done and cannot be changed.
Today I got up and just knew I was going to slog through the day. And I did. Nothing to report on either side of the coin. Didn't fly off the handle. Didn't do cartwheels. And I feel lucky for that. So before I rest, I'll think back about a few things. Today I got up and was grateful for Margaret, dryer sheets, peanut butter cups, how Ben reaches out to touch my hand when he wants me to smile at him, and Kev - King of the anti-slog movement.