I like to think of myself as a positive person. Yes I can be cynical with the best of them (or at the very least the cynical second string). But I'm also not Miss Perky All the Time. Sweet grilled cheebus knows I can get in a mood, and it's best to watch out when I start getting a little yell-y because things start a-flying after that.
I'm of the belief that attitude is everything. A bad attitude can break a day as much as a good attitude can totally make it. (Call me weird, call me crazy, just don't call me late to dinner.) For sure sometimes a bad day is just a bad day and not necessarily grown from the decaying roots of a bad attitude. I get all kinds of stabby on those days. But more often than not we have the power within us to turn a bad day into, well, if not a good one at least one that doesn't leave us with a vein bursting from our foreheads. And that power is all kinds of connected - in the head bone is connected to the neck bone kind of way - to our attitudes.
Weekends are glorious two-day islands in what can be a monotonous dream - sometimes demented nightmare - of work. I relish in the days off to do whatever my nerdy, Mochaface heart desires. But I don't want to live only for the weekends. There are five more days in the week to be enjoyed and lived.
In general, for me Fridays do tend to be a bit happier than Mondays. So I understand the gratefulness for Fridays and the mean eyes at Mondays. What I don't understand is the weekly whining about it. Monday comes around once a week. Every week. That's never going to change. If I hate on every Monday, that bad attitude is going to affect somewhere around 4,160 days of my life. No thank you.
The whining does nothing except encourage more complaining and whining. It's a relentless cycle that builds on itself. One I try to not get sucked into. Serenity is my goal. Every day of the week. I don't always achieve it. But I strive for it as much as I can.