8/31 POV

Point of View. It makes a big difference.

Mondays are seen by some as the Grim Reaper of the weekend, the poisoner of Sunday. Droopy shoulders, hanging heads, too much coffee, and the expectation of Murphy's Law enacted.

I used to hate Mondays. I used to hate any day of the week that wasn't at least a Thursday. I especially hated Tuesday.

Here's how it all seemed to me at the ripe old age of 22:

Sunday is the dampened weekend day, freedom but with the specter of Monday.

Monday is the gloomy beginning of the long work week. Awful. The only upside is that you are rested from the weekend and may have some good stories.

Wednesday is the middle of the week, the worst is over, but still there is half a week left.

Thursday may be the best day of the week because the next day is...

...Friday, and all day Friday is pleasant because ahead are two days of freedom! The reason Friday isn't as perfect as Thursday is that once Friday is over, the weekend begins, and it zips by way too fast and then, BAM! it's Monday again.

Saturday is equivalent to Heaven.

Now, back to Tuesday. There is NOTHING good about Tuesday. Nothing. Worst day of the week.

That's how I looked at life until, after regularly verbalizing my longing for the weekend, a meek, sagacious, 'elderly' (she was probably the age I am now!) co-worker quietly intoned to me while on break in the women's lounge, "You don't want to wish your life away."

Boy. I'll tell you, that stung. And it sat in my mind for hours, days, weeks, and obviously years, okay decades.

My viewpoint changed right then. On the spot. And I've never looked back but began searching for the goodness of life in all its moments and have found that plenty exist. Prior to my awakening I simply sulked while overlooking simple - and grand - pleasures.

Gratitude for Ruth's courage in imparting her wisdom impels me to remember and to pay it forward.

I keep the following quote from Goldie Hawn in a little wooden cigar box with the calculator, compass, protractor, some pencils, erasers, and pens, all things I regularly pluck.

I love life. I wake up every day excited to wake up. You want to know what I think? I think you have to stop feeing sorry for yourself, and start thanking the day instead of scowling at it.

I don't always wake up excited. I'm not a millionaire actress with housekeepers, nannies, chauffeurs, houses here and there, and the means to fly away to a sunny locale when feeling blue.

BUT, this attitude can be easily adjusted. We non-millionaires don't have to worry about where to put our money to keep from being taxed to death, we don't have to pay people to keep logs and records of our employees, our real estate holdings, our appointments, etc. We have satisfactions they don't have due to living close to the earth, to reality, to our children, closer, if you will, to the edge. And, well, anonymity has a great price these days.

We all certainly have the choice to thank the day rather than scowl at it. Life is precious, each minute, only to be lived once.

"Thank you, Day! Thank you for being Monday. Thank you for what you bring including, as the sun sets, the hope of Tuesday which is no longer the worst day of the week."