I'm Monday. Too Bad For You

Hokay, People: Listen up. 

Monday here. Yes ... Monday. The first day of the week.

That particular day many of you have decided to ridicule. Scorn. Chide. Vilify. Thumb your nose at. And generally complain about to exactly zero effect.

Let me reiterate: "TO EXACTLY ZERO EFFECT."

Because (and you need to understand this completely) no matter where you are in the week there's a Monday you're going to have to contend with soon.

Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in a couple days. But it's lurking.

Because for the rest of your life you're going to have a Monday to live through every seventh calendar day. And about 52 of them on average in any given year. 

So my question to you is this: How's whining about that Monday thing working for you? Because there's nothing you can do about it. And you sound like a big, fat whiner (or petulant child) when you gripe.

Want to hear a few of my benefits you don't take into consideration? Maybe by listing a couple it might curb your incessant, useless bellyaching. I'm the first day of the week as noted. If you didn't have me around, how could you begin your week? Answer: You couldn't.

But I'm also that extra day off during Memorial Day, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, President's Day and Labor Day weekends. Yeah ... you like me then, don't you? Rather hypocritical if you ask me.

Holidays that fall on a Tuesday? Many of you get me off as a bonus four day weekend. If you didn't have me around, lots of you would extend your weekend interminably, irresponsibly ... and that would just end up killing you. (You know the saying ... "too much of a good thing ...")

In Canada? Kind of difficult to have Easter Monday on any other day of the week, you follow?

You've heard of The Mamas And The Papas, right? That seminal American folk rock vocal group of the '60s? They liked me. Even wrote a song about me:

"Monday, Monday, so good to me ... Monday mornin', it was all I hoped it would be ... oh Monday mornin', Monday mornin' couldn't guarantee ... that Monday evenin' you would still be here with me ..."

Yep. Sublime stuff right there. And that's not the only song I'm in. "Fell In Love On Monday" by Fats Domino. "Thank God It's Monday" by NOFX. Jimmy Buffet's "Come Monday."  The Cure couldn't have written "Friday I'm In Love" without yours truly. And tons more, immortalizing me, Monday, in music.

You know ... I could go on and on and on. And on. And freakin' ON about me.

But the bottom line is this: A wise friend of mine once told me if you whine about something and don't do anything about it, you're just a whiner. And the fact of the matter is there's not a single thing you can do about me. And that's too bad for you.

You're either smack dab in the middle of me, worrying about me coming up or grousing and causing other people to join in your misery. Because, you know, misery loves company. 

Me? I'm not miserable in the least. In fact, to those who bemoan my existence? That actually pleases me and makes me involuntarily smirk. So if that whining thing works for you and you're happy with it? You just keep on doin' whatcher doin', Bonzo. 

Because I'll be back again real soon. And again. And again. 

And yet again after that. 

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP moaning about Monday, you big, fat whiner )

Whine Not

It's something I've come across often.

People who seem normal ... outgoing ... sociable. In general, they are pleasant to be around.

But some? They turn (and quickly) into whining, annoying, self-absorbed crybabies focused on the most miniscule of infractions.
 
I'm not talking about verbal body tackles to their person. Or snide remarks tossed their way debasing their characters. Nor am I talking about sarcastic one upsmanship. I speak of whining for whining's sake. You know them: It appears they have nothing better to do than complain about the smallest thing.

I'm sure they think they have a reason for it. But in reality it's simply for their justifications.

Or it's because the person is truly self-absorbed and believes they're entitled.

Or they're happy in their misery and uncomfortable when removed from it - they know the feeling too well and don't like when they're not inside that bubble.

Hey, I complain. I complain all the time. You've been to this blog before ... you've seen me do it. When I do it's with a comedic bent. Or with an incredulous "I had no idea." There are several other categories when I grouse, too ...

... but I don't do it just to do it. I don't do it simply for the sake of whining. It's not because I know whining intimately and it's my natural state of being.

Quite the opposite: I'm a happy-go-lucky sort of guy. I'm mirthful and upbeat and I enjoy smiling. A lot. It's too much trouble to be unhappy. It takes too many muscles to frown. It makes for an unpleasant air when I'm around whiny, unhappy people. 

I'm not stupid or ignorant of such, though. All situations and conditions cannot be joyous or pleasant.

But why in the world would you force such a state on yourself? When there is absolutely no need to do so? To hear yourself complain? To moan and foster that "woe is me" attitude ever forward?

Stop it. No one wants that. No one wants to be around that ...

... well ... except other whiners. Because misery does, indeed, love company ... and whiners support other whiners.

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP complaining )