Three Down, Two to Go!

Have you ever rolled out of bed (and got a bump even more inflamed than your acne on your head) on a Monday morning, and groaned at the thought of returning to your weekday hell? After two days of peace, relentless noise and action - which drain your energy levels like one downing a Fruit Shoot - resume, as though you never got away from it during the weekend.

Every Monday sends alarm bells ringing when it occurs to me that not only will I lose my right to excessively long (and unapproved) lie-ins, but a familiar routine will be back on the cards, washing memories of relaxed Sundays and Saturday afternoons out from my mind. And this Monday? Definitely not an exception - and probably never will be!

I know, nobody preserves a particular fondness for Mondays, which are typically regarded as the biggest - and first - bugbear of the week. In that sense, I can totally relate to the Grumpiest of All Cats, Garfield, whose hatred for the first day of the week defined his character, and merely generated his popularity among the Monday-detesting young. Once introduced to laziness, you become very reluctant to give it up. which is the laziest (and worst) thing of all!

Unless swamped with piles of homework that couldn't be completed on Friday night, my weekends have one sole purpose: relaxing. The letter 'r' doesn't send shivers of ice-cold fear down my fear because it represents a part of life that I would dedicate a life's worth of wishes for to exist beyond the weekend - it is otherwise the source of my happiness. Like completing a French assignment, relaxing is easy, gentle and as enjoyable as helping yourself to a packet of hunger-quenching biscuits after coming home from school!

Ah, if only life itself - and what it involves - was as simple as getting an overload on taking it easy!

Although there are opportunities to relax during the week - when my life is at its most frantic - I sometimes find it difficult to separate myself from school because it is literally all that is racing around in my study-focused mind. An episode of Mad Men might give me something other than hiked-up skirts, heavy messenger bags and the remains of my maybe-or-maybe not fly-infested lunch (courtesy of a wasp landing near it) for nearly an hour, yet I'm merely in transit: limbo is where my heart remains whilst trapped between reality and school life.

Therefore, I'm scared stiff by the time that Monday morning approaches because, within an hour or two, I'll be placed back in the container in which Limbo-ites stay until the final bell goes off on Friday afternoon, when freedom is yet again handed over to me. If you could place yourself in the shoes - or perhaps the fins - of a fish floating in a tank, you will get a near enough accurate idea of what limbo feels like. I might be keeping myself afloat, but am I enjoying every ounce of freedom that I deserve? Not entirely, even when I get home in the afternoon.

However, my levels of panic - that reach their peak at the beginning of the week - begin to decrease after Garfield's least favourite day blends into the minutes, hours and eventually days that race by, morphing into yet another day that will be partly remembered. At this point on a Wednesday, my panic is fairly neutral; despite another two days lying in store for me, three have already been completed, so the worst has been over and done with.

Personally, I compare school to a bowling alley: once you start to knock one pin over, the confidence to hit the others quickly increases in supply. At the end of the day, school - and surviving the sheer hell of getting up before 6am each morning - is all about confidence which, when you leave behind a weekend that you would never dream of ending, can be difficult to obtain. But, nearly four months on, I'm getting better at managing those feelings which, within an hour or so after entering the classroom, subside and become easier to ignore: when lost in the land of learning, why should I hold onto Monday misery for dear life?

Anyway, I've almost forgotten about the dread in my stomach that put me off my appetite on Monday morning, which was worsened still due to sleep deprivation. My eyes and body ached like I'd been hit by a rock-solid ball, yet my eagerness to get on with work kicked in as soon as it was presented to me. While in my most miserable moments, I hold onto my love of learning because it makes going to school worthwhile - otherwise, what would be the point?

Now, I'm nearing that wonderful point in the week where relaxation will be the most important thing of all. The excitement is gradually building, and I'm getting giddier as each second passes. That, I must declare, is an aspect of life - whether at work or in school - I will always hold onto.

And the Monday blues? However hard I try, that little moaner inside of me will never let it go!