Monday Morning

It's not a work week.  Since retiring, it's never a work week.  Yet time is best allocated with a structure.  There are things I want to do today and do within six months, but the unit of planning from Biblical times seems to be seven day cycles that prevent all the days from being continuous.  It starts with Yom Rishon, or the first day which we have adopted as Sunday and climaxes at shabbos, then resets.  For American culture, the first day is really Monday and the day off is Sunday, though the climax may be Friday evening when work suspends.  Farmers might look at it differently.  To be productive, to be able to review how successful that weekly block turned out, that time clock has to begin and end somewhere.  On my calendars it is Sunday.  In my working mind it was Monday, and has remained so through retirement.

I preferentially stack a few things for Monday; measure weight and waist circumference.  Other things go on a monthly checklist, the days the oil in the car gets checked or the day I donate to a Jewish cause or pay my cell phone bill.  But for the most part it is a week that gets planned out on Sunday with serious implementation on Monday, not that I fritter away Sunday or devote Sunday to psychological enhancement of the days that follow.  I just think of a work week as it has always been, from my earliest school years to my final day's employment.