Day 51: Monday Blues Redux

There’s something inherently cruel about Mondays. After the weekend, you’re expected to bounce back into productivity like you’ve been training for a marathon. But today, Monday hit harder than usual—probably because the midterm stress from last week still hadn’t worn off.

The alarm blared at 7 a.m., and I slapped it off with all the enthusiasm of someone about to face their execution. Faisal, already up and scrolling on his phone, shot me a smirk. “Ready for round two of this wonderful life?” he asked.

“No,” I grumbled, pulling my blanket over my head.

Breakfast was a dismal affair. The cafeteria had run out of nasi lemak, and I had to settle for plain bread and coffee that tasted like regret. Faisal, as usual, seemed immune to the Monday blues. He wolfed down a plate of fried noodles, chatting about some new series he’d binge-watched over the weekend. I nodded along, not really listening, my brain still stuck in half-sleep mode.

The first class of the day was Financial Accounting—a subject that, on a good day, makes me feel like my brain is being squeezed through a calculator. Today, it felt even worse. The professor droned on about something called “cost variance analysis,” and my eyes kept drifting to the clock. Time seemed to crawl. I spent most of the lecture doodling in my notebook, my mind far away from formulas and spreadsheets.

Things didn’t improve during lunch. Amanda joined us at the table, which would’ve been great under normal circumstances, but my Monday brain couldn’t handle coherent conversation. While Faisal kept her entertained with his usual antics, I focused on my fried rice, wondering if it was possible to survive an entire day without speaking.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, my energy had hit rock bottom. The campus was buzzing with activity—group discussions, students rushing to meet deadlines, and the faint hum of the library’s air conditioning—but I felt completely detached from it all.

Faisal, noticing my lack of enthusiasm, suggested skipping our Marketing lecture. “Come on, man,” he said. “One missed class isn’t the end of the world. Let’s hit the arcade instead. You need to unwind.”

As tempting as it was, I shook my head. “If I skip now, I’ll just stress about catching up later.”

“Suit yourself,” Faisal replied, shrugging as he headed off to class.

Sitting through that lecture was a struggle, but I managed to absorb at least some of the content. By the time it ended, I felt a small sense of accomplishment—like I’d pushed through a wall of fog and come out the other side, albeit slightly disoriented.

Back at the dorm, Faisal was already sprawled on the couch, playing a video game. He looked up as I walked in. “You’re late. Did the professor try to recruit you into their cult of boredom?”

I laughed, tossing my bag onto the floor. “Something like that.”

Lesson of the day: Mondays are always tough, but getting through them is its own kind of victory. Even when it feels like you’re running on empty, showing up is half the battle. Now, if only Tuesdays could be less cruel.