Sunday, The Polite Reminder To Sort Your Shit.

Yes that’s right, Sunday, meant to be a relaxing day, in fact it’s a polite reminder that you have 24 hours to sort your life out. It is the last frontier before you have to make yourself human again. Obviously this depends on the type of weekends you have… if you’re the type who goes out and enjoys the wonders of the countryside, then the rest of the week resembles the hell of going to do actual work. If you’re the type that goes out on Friday and literally cannot function for the rest of the weekend, then the week provides a little normality, whilst also being a pain in the arse. We can all agree that jobs are fun till you have to do them…

Whilst you live the work life, leaving the student life in the past is very much a difficult task. Going out on a Tuesday, followed by a monster second session on the Wednesday is firmly not going to happen. You have responsibilites now fool. But this just means the stress of the week is compounded to the weekend. Wicked. Mint. Unfortunately this means you become the one thing you hated as a student. A weekend warrior. A weekend wanker. You know those people who had money when you were going out on a tenner as a student? Yeah them. You’re one of them now. Boy doesn’t it feel awesome though?

Well by the time you’ve peeled yourself from your bed on a Monday morning, there is probably a few things you’re thinking about work or having to get up at god knows what time. This happens throughout the week doesn’t it? Don’t lie. Monday through Sunday. I have what I deem the most accurate phrases to represent each day. There is a few swears in this part, sorry but I’m not sorry.

MONDAY: Here we go again.

This day is up there as one of the worst of the bunch. It literally is like stepping in dog turd with your best shoes on, cleaning it off and then standing in some more. It is the one day you should be allowed to make a shed load of mistakes and say whatever you like to whoever because you’re grumpy your weekend is over. I’m all for a 3 day weekend being a made a thing? I hate Mondays.

TUESDAY:  Oh for fucks sake.

When I said Monday was up there with the worst, it’s because it is. Tuesday is right next to it. This little shit is here to make your week a living nightmare. That report thats due today? You can forget about that, your tortoise has eaten it. That email you had to send? Can’t do it, the email is down. You have to actually write it down. #FirstWorldStrugs
But seriously, this day is exactly what herpes would look like if herpes was a day of the week. (PSA: I’m simply assuming here, I don’t know what herpes looks like).
Can we ban Tuesdays?


The middle of the week. You’ve done so well. Pat on the back for you. But you have two more days to go. Such a pain isn’t it? However Wednesday is one of your productive days as you just want to go home and chill, or go to the pub and begin your steady but beautiful decline into the weekend.  Just think that when you get home, you’re over the middle of the week, the hump.

Alternative Hump day has another meaning for some people. It’s their day where they make time to do the sexes.

THURSDAY: Will it ever end?

This day is almost a blessing amongst the darkness of the rest of the week. You’re very productive, you get everything done. This is because you want an easy Friday and simple end to the week. But for all it’s worth, this never works. Your boss spots you working hard and gives you like a mountain of work the size of four Everest put together. If you’re lucky this doesn’t happen. And you can sail off to your cave knowing you’ve had a good day.

If this isn’t the case you go home dreading Friday. Sorry.


The week is over, you’ve made it. Just think of all the beer, sleep and films you can watch. Work passes by slowly, imagine a stoned sloth, just wants to chill and love everything it sees. However you have no time for this, you want the day to end, just so you can cause some carnage at the pub or retreat to bed and have a takeaway. As long as you’re out of work right?
Some lucky bastards have a drinks trolley at work, but I guess you have to land a stellar job for that.

Either way get out of work and go make bad decisions on the town.

SATURDAY: Why did I do that? Where’s the beer, I want to do it again.

You wake up, hopefully in your own bed. Depending on the type of night you had before, you might end up anywhere, a hotel, another city, or by the oven.

Either way, you check your phone, make sure you haven’t ruined your life with embarassing messages or snapchats. This is usually followed by some probing messages/snaps to find out if you did. I’ve been there, it is so cringy but power through. You nap it off and go again, after all it is the weekend?

If you have life together there is generally time to do things, but recently I haven’t managed… unless my parents are here to drag me there looking like a meth addict.

SUNDAY: Shit. Why is Monday tomorrow?

There is not much to be said about Sunday. Monday is too close, work is looming and you’ve eaten like a whale all weekend. You look the worst you could possibly ever do. But you now have a limited time to do everything you promised yourself you would over the whole weekend.

Eat sleep eat repeat.

Disclaimer: This is for a typical working week. Bank Holidays are exceptions, Monday evolves into a Sunday like a beautiful little pokemon.

Either way, I’m still waiting to win the lottery. Selling myself wouldn’t be as lucrative as people make out. I’m like a choked sausage. maxresdefault





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