Monday, Monday, so good to me. Good Monday my dear reader(s)! While most of you out there are probably doing your best impression of Garfield (the cat, not the President), I am happily smiling away realizing that it is finally Monday again. “What’s this? Blasphemy!” you say. Well, I happen to like Mondays. In fact, I LOVE Mondays! Allow me to explain…actually, I’m going to explain anyway, you have no choice in the matter.
You see, I’m unable to work. Even as my general health improves and my recovery progresses, there are still a few things holding me back from being able to re-enter the workforce. Mostly it is my lack of immune protection, but there are plenty of other issues I have touched on in previous posts but really don’t feel like getting into here because I am happy today and don’t want to ruin it by talking about all of my disabilities. However, it is those very disabilities which make Mondays so much better for me, than it does for those of you who are not disabled.
I live with my mother. For a couple more weeks anyway, my wife and I share a condo with my mom. I love my mom, she is an awesome person, but she is home all weekend. And it is cool to hang out with my mom, but after two entire days in a row, it is nice to have her back at work so my wife and I can pretend to be adults. If you have roommates, you probably understand what I am talking about. You like your roommates, they may even be great people, but you can’t walk around without your trousers when they’re around. You can’t be loud and sing “0118999881999119725 3” at the top of your lungs without worrying about what they might think. You can’t wake up to reruns of “I Love Lucy” and watch “The Price Is Right” without feeling like you are being judged. You can’t bring your sex slave out of the basement for a little kinky waterboarding fun when your mom and/or roommates are present.
Another reason that I love Mondays is that in addition to my mother, most everyone else is at work too. This means I can actually get out of the house without the crippling fear of catching some disease from the unwashed masses. My lack of immunity has given me a serious case of Agorophobia in addition to all the other psychological things that plague my tiny little brain. Unlike my other psych issues, I haven’t actually been diagnosed with Agorophobia, probably because my fear of crowds is not only rational, it is reinforced by my doctors. I am supposed to avoid people, which would be awesome, if I didn’t get over my Social Anxiety during my cancer fight. (For those keeping track this leaves me with just Generalized Anxiety Disorder and PTSD.)
Speaking of PTSD, if you’re as new to dealing with it as I am, you may have noticed how hard it can make it to keep your composure when driving. Suddenly every moronic thing someone does on the road in front of you, becomes not just an annoyance, but a threat to your continued existence. I also have mini-flashbacks whenever an ambulance or fire truck comes by so the knuckles on the steering wheel often become a lovely shade of white while I am trying to go somewhere. I avoid weekend driving at all costs, because 1. Every idiot and their brother are out on the roads. And 2. Weekend drivers are busy looking at everything except for the road and are therefore more likely to make mistakes. I don’t know if the statistics support this theory, but I don’t care. This is how I see it. On Mondays, (except at lunch time or during the commutes), the roads are empty. It is like “I Am Legend” out there. In other words, I can drive happy.
On Mondays, I can, if I have the energy, work out without feeling totally self-conscious. I get to do my “Rocky” training without anyone wondering what on Earth I’m doing. You see, all my weights are back in my hometown as we didn’t take much with us for what we thought would be a rather short-term situation. This leaves me to lifting things like cases of water and doing dips off of chairs in order to exercise and rebuild some of the muscle mass I lost during chemo. I have yet to start punching sides of beef but that is definitely the next step in my training regimen. I’m doing pretty good. Whenever I walk up the two flights of stairs from the garage area to the condo I put up my arms and jump around to celebrate. Flying high now.
On Mondays I can blast my music without fear of annoying any of the neighbors because they are at work. I get to feel like the bigger person, since they in no way try to limit their noise on the weekends, particularly at 4 in the morning when the asshole upstairs decides to turn his condo into a bowling alley or whatever the hell he does up there and then I lie awake until about 7 when my mom wakes up and we can go out in the living room without disturbing her but we are already tired and we just want to go up there and beat him until he is no longer capable of making any noises louder than an occasional moan for his pain medicine and to be turned to avoid bed sores but then we would have to hear the beeping of his monitors and infusion pumps and the added noise of his home nurse that would have to come in to care for him so on second thought maybe we shouldn’t beat him to that point, but we really don’t want to beat him to death, so there has to be a way to get him to shut the fuck up!!!!! Ah…okay. Anyway, on Mondays, he is at work and so none of that bothers me, as you can tell.
Basically, I love Mondays because Mondays equals less people, and less people for me is always a good thing. Please comment on this post with your thoughts, because it is Monday, and there is nobody around, and I’m so lonely.