The Tuesday Blues

Tuesday. Overcast. Of course, it's bloody overcast. The sky resembles a dirty blanket, which is fitting as I seem to have mistaken myself for a human being again.

I woke up this morning with a severe case of Monday Blues. The only problem being that it was Tuesday. This presents a kind of philosophical dilemma. It is like arriving at a funeral only to find the corpse has left for a quick pint. Should I proceed with the mourning, or should I be daft?

I chose to feel daft. It's what I do best, after all.

The Monday Blues on a Tuesday are a curious affliction. It's like your emotions are all mixed up and running on Greenwich Mean Time with a side of confusion. I found myself missing the weekend that had already gone. At the same time, I was dreading the Monday that was now behind me. Time, it seems, is having a laugh at my expense. Again.

"What's wrong with you?" Mary asked me. While I was staring at a cold piece of toast with a look of sadness. I was thinking about how meaningless breakfast felt.

"I've got the Monday Blues," I replied. With the sort of tragic dignity usually reserved for Shakespearean heroes. And people who've discovered their trousers have fallen down in public.

"But it's Tuesday," said Mary. Displaying that peculiar female gift for being right.

"Exactly!" I cried. "That's what makes it so much worse!"

You see, experiencing the Monday blues on an actual Monday is reasonable. Expected, even. It's like rain in Manchester or politicians lying—it's the way things are. But Monday blues on a Tuesday? That's showing off. It's emotional grandstanding of the highest order.

I spent the morning trying to cure myself by pretending it was still Monday. This meant eating biscuits nice and slow and groaning each time someone said "work." By lunchtime, I had convinced myself it was Sunday. This was worse, as I then felt dread about the Monday that had already passed.

The human mind, I have concluded, is a wonderful thing. Pity it doesn't come with an instruction manual. Or a warranty. Or at the very least, an OFF switch for when it starts behaving like a demented clock in a Salvador Dalí painting.

By one o'clock, I had completely surrendered. I decided to embrace the Tuesday Blues as a fresh way to feel down. After all, if I must be miserable, I should be pioneering about it.

Tomorrow, I will attempt 'Wednesday Anxiety'. On Thursday, of course.