Why Mondays Feel Perfect for Hitting Refresh

“I need to drop off some cake,” my mom says over the phone. “We have so much cake and you forgot to take the cake.”

“I want the cake, but I don’t want the cake,” I say. “I’m starting a new program on Monday.” It’s Sunday. I debate if there’s still time for her to drop the homemade banana nut cake with crack-like cream cheese frosting off on Sunday because I can still eat cake on Sunday.

My husband and I just stopped for ice cream. (Soft serve twist with rainbow sprinkles and a side of chocolate peanut butter chunk.)

“This is our problem,” he says. “We hike six miles uphill and then we stop at Chick-fil-A on the way home.”

He’s right: this is our problem. And we can’t go to Chick-fil-A without getting a milkshake (on the side).

“Ice cream is our reward for hiking six miles,” I explain. “Plus, it’s almost 90 degrees outside today. We will need ice cream to cool down.”

My husband thought we were starting to eat healthy again.

“On Monday,” I explain. “Today is not Monday.”

Monday has always felt like the right day to start a healthy journey. The week is fresh, I’ve usually been asleep since 9pm on a Sunday, and the general spirit of Monday is that it’s time to put on your anything-is-possible pants.

I tell my husband that I would like to invest in a new fitness and nutrition program that starts on Monday. “I’m languishing,” I say.

“What does that mean?”

I read from the recent New York Times article a friend sent me that seeks to normalize the word “languishing” as the current mental state of most of us after a pandemic year with our bodies in fight-or-flight mode. (Instantly, I was on board with normalizing the response, “Honestly, I’m languishing,” and I thought everyone had already caught up to the new household language.)

“Joyless, aimless,” I read, “muddling through your days, looking at your life through a foggy windshield. I have all these things. I’m languishing.”

He nods along. A text comes in, so I’m distracted. And then I remember.

“And trouble concentrating,” I say. “That’s me.”

On Monday, I swap out ice cream for green smoothies, I make a date with my dumbbells, and hit the refresh button as we wait for a-whole-new me to load.

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