Our society, it would seem, has a perverse obsession with willing life to be over. I’m not talking about in the traditional sense, mind you. No, this depravity is a different kind of sinister, and like the other, it destroys without warning. We are frequently guilty without even realizing what we are doing.
It’s a preoccupation to accelerate time, to gloss over the minutes, and hours, and days that make up our lives. To solely focus on immersing ourselves in the good (i.e., the weekend), while getting through the suck (our work week) as quickly as possible.
It starts somewhat innocently with our innate aversion to Mondays. “It’s your typical Monday,” we explain. “Not bad for a Monday,” we argue. Or simply, and to the point, “F— Monday.” What did Monday ever do to us? Did Monday ever punch us in the throat? Kick us in the nards? Tell you your kids were ugly? No. We commit Monday upon ourselves.
The chronological carnage continues on Wednesday when we declare it “Hump Day.” The notion that by mid-week, after arduously climbing this giant mountain of suckitude, we must proudly plant a flag to announce the whole godforsaken week half-over. To hell with the climb, the journey, and all the experiences it’s bestowed upon us. Let’s now rocket down this damned hill as quickly as possible so we can slide into Friday happy hour and its $3 Moscow Mules.
And then, there’s “Thank God it’s Friday.” A concept so powerful, they named a fabulously mediocre restaurant chain after it. To be clear—God has no predilection nor preference for Fridays, nor any other day of the week, for that matter. God doesn’t celebrate Hump Day, nor does God curse Mondays. Let’s not bring God into our morbid perversion, shall we?
I’m guilty of all this too, by the way, so please don’t think I’m judging. I’m just trying to understand it so that I can cure myself. Recovery involves making realizations and applying them to our everyday lives. Learning to cherish the sucky moments. Appreciating the journey. Understanding that when you’re on your deathbed, you won’t just reflect upon the Friday nights out on the town, or just the Saturdays spent in the park. You’ll remember those amazing things that happened on a Tuesday evening. Or that special person you met on a Wednesday afternoon. Or the mad, passionate moments that occurred on a random Thursday at 2 in the morning.
These are the moments that define our lives, and ultimately, have no chronological definition. Man invented the concept of time, and while we aren’t immune to the effects that time has on our bodies and minds, we have the power to ignore it and live a timeless life. Live a life of passion that knows no bounds. And, by all means, never, ever grow up.