A buddy of mine calls me Garfield.

And rightfully so.

I’ve always hated Mondays. Always. There’s just something about going from two days of doing whatever the hell you want back into alarms, schedules, responsibilities, and pretending you’re excited to be productive that feels fundamentally wrong.

And I will continuously shout into the void that weekends should be three days.

I’m not asking for anything crazy here.

Historically, the two-day weekend is actually a relatively modern thing. The five-day workweek became common in the early 20th century as labor movements pushed for shorter working hours. The idea was basically: work five days, get two days off, and everyone goes home happy.

Well… some of us are clearly not happy.

The two-day weekend stuck because it fit neatly around the traditional Monday-through-Friday workweek. Saturday became a day off for workers, Sunday was already widely observed as a day of rest, and eventually the two-day weekend became the standard.

And here we are.

In 2026.

Still doing this.

Five days of work for two days of freedom.

Does that ratio seem reasonable to anyone?

By the time Friday rolls around, half of Saturday is spent recovering from the week.

Then Saturday becomes chore day.

You clean. You go to the grocery store. Maybe you see some friends. You manage the household. You fix whatever needs fixing. You deal with all the little things you can’t get to during the week because, you know, you have a job.

And before you know it, Saturday night rolls around and you realize you have one more day left.

Sunday is supposed to be the day for yourself. You try to get back to your hobbies. Maybe you actually sit down and relax for a few hours. Maybe you just want to do absolutely nothing.

And then…

3 p.m. rolls around.

And you can hear it.

Monday is coming.

And don’t even get me started on the astrological connection. That’s what my other persona, The Whimsical Arcane is for but let me get on with it just because…

Mondays are Moon days.

The Moon is all about emotions, rest, reflection, moods, and all that wonderfully sluggish shit. So maybe there actually is something to the fact that everyone seems a little slower on Mondays. Maybe we’re not lazy. Maybe we’re just energetically aligned with the Moon.

Then Tuesday comes along, and Tuesday is Mars day.

Mars.

The planet of action, energy, drive, aggression, getting shit done.

So of course Tuesday is when everyone starts waking back up and actually functioning again.

Wednesday is Mercury’s day.

And Mercury is all about communication, thinking, information, movement, and commerce.

Which honestly tracks.

By Wednesday, everyone is talking, emailing, making decisions, sitting in meetings, fixing problems, sending messages, and wondering why the hell there are 47 unread emails sitting in their inbox.

Thursday is Jupiter’s day.

Jupiter is associated with expansion, growth, optimism, abundance, and opportunity.

And Thursday really does have that feeling.

You’re not quite at the weekend yet, but you can see it.

There’s a little light at the end of the tunnel.

Then Friday rolls around, and it’s Venus day.

Venus is all about pleasure, beauty, relationships, socializing, food, enjoyment, and all the things you suddenly remember exist after spending five days working.

Friday is basically Venus walking into the room and saying, “Okay, enough of this shit. Go have some fun.”

And then we get to Saturday.

Saturday is Saturn’s day.

Of course it is.

Saturn is responsibility, discipline, structure, limitations, obligations, consequences…

Bills.

Laundry.

Cleaning.

Home repairs.

Yard work.

All the shit you put off during the week because you were working.

Saturday is Saturn showing up with a clipboard like, “Alright. Let’s see what you’ve been neglecting.”

So while everyone thinks Saturday is part of the weekend, Saturn apparently has other plans.

And then there’s Sunday.

Sunday is the Sun’s day.

The Sun is vitality, creativity, self-expression, joy, warmth, and life.

Which feels about right.

Sunday is supposed to be the day where you actually get to be a person again.

You sleep in.

You drink your coffee.

You do something you actually enjoy.

You spend time with people you care about.

You get back to your hobbies.

You sit around and do absolutely nothing if that’s what you need.

And then, of course…

3 p.m. rolls around.

You look at the clock.

You realize tomorrow is Monday.

And suddenly the Moon is waiting around the corner.

So maybe the problem isn’t that we hate Mondays.

Maybe we’ve just been cosmically set up for this shit.

And this is even worse for people with kids. Your weekend isn’t necessarily two days of freedom. It’s two days of parenting, errands, activities, cleaning, cooking, and trying to squeeze in some time for yourself somewhere in the middle of all of it.

And then suddenly it’s Monday again.

This is why I maintain that we need a three-day weekend.

Not because I’m lazy.

Okay, maybe a little because I’m lazy.

But mostly because I think two days just isn’t enough time to actually decompress, do the things you want to do, see people, run errands, have a hobby, stare blankly at a wall for several hours, and still feel like you’ve had an actual break.

Give me three days.

One day to recover.

One day to deal with all the shit that needs doing.

And one day that’s actually mine.

So yes, my buddy calls me Garfield.

And yes, I accept the accusation.

Mondays suck.

Weekends should be three days.

I said what I said.