Monday ... should rename it to get-yourself-organised-day

Why is it that Mondays always are the days we give ourselves the good talking to? The day we start a diet. The day we will set the alarm early and get up and go for a brisk walk. The day we will make a healthy lunch at home to take to work. The day we get ready for work peacefully instead of a hideous rush and leave the house with wet hair and un-ironed shirt (it looks OK, doesn't it?  I just wont take my jacket off). The day we plan with our partner to have a date night this week. The day we eat Bircher muesli and fresh blueberries for breakfast.

By Tuesday we have fallen back into old habits, we tell ourselves that this week isn't a great week to be starting new routines.  We have a meeting with the boss, a visit to the dentist, the car needs a service and besides it's so bloody hot. Next week I will start. I promise. I will even go buy a new diary today and write myself a proper schedule.

It's like a mini New Year resolution every week. The feeling of being in control on a Monday wanes away as Friday approaches and we collapse in a  guilt-fueled, I-give-up Saturday. Sunday night, what I always call Hair Washing Night - as that's when my mother would wash our hair and make sure all our school uniforms were washed and ready and we were made to pack our school bags (often having to unpack the fish paste sandwich left there Friday) - is when we take stock of the less than satisfactory week and give ourselves a talking to, that starting Monday, things are going to change around here. (Can you hear my mother's voice here? I can!)



So what happens? Why this roller-coaster? Is it just me, or (I hope) do we all do this? We must do. I just read an article in The Australian that talks about our 5:2 lives. How we live for five days of work that leave us depleted and emptied, and try and fit another life, our social and personal life, into the two days left in the week. I see the problem as having higher and higher expectations. We don't just have friends over for dinner, we have friends over for a dinner designed by Delicious Magazine, in a house that Grand Designs inspired, with a walk around the garden modeled after Monty Don's French Gardens. Impossible standards, unless you have a maid and a chef and a gardener. And that's just a part of the weekend - there is the washing, cleaning, shopping, lawn mowing, pool cleaning, kids sports, car washing, dog washing, blower vac-ing .... and on and on it goes.

(Binge, crash: Welcome to the 5:2 lifestyle
SHANE WATSON THE AUSTRALIAN FEBRUARY 17, 2014 12:00AM)

So, never one to admit failure, I keep trying to get it 'right.'

I set my alarm this morning. I had written a plan (this was after an inspirational writing course this last weekend) to rise at 6am. Do my chores and be sitting at my desk, coffee in hand, open page and spend the next hour writing.

At 6:01am I turned off the alarm, mumbled to the dog, "I'll do it tomorrow" and went back to sleep. In my wisdom (I know myself well) I had set another alarm at 6:30am. 
6:32am - I found my phone stuffed under 3 pillows, and turned that alarm off too.

At what point do we give up completely and just get on with life?

Disclaimer - I apologise that my blog posts might sound odd and jaggered. I have spent the last few months (in blog exile) writing academic essays. I feel the need to reference everything and write a bibliography. Hopefully I will loosen up a bit as I write more!