A Bad Case Of The Mondays

         "Office Space" is one of the movies that I've watched with my hubby more than a handful of times. My hubby can easily quote many lines from it on command. I can tell you the basic jest of the funny lines, but never quote it word for word (I confess I had to look up the quote below). I was thinking about it a lot this weekend because I've found I have something in common with the main character. Several times in the movie, people tell himself that he's got a "bad case of the Mondays". In the movie, the main character goes to a therapist for some hypnotherapy because he feels like his life is getting progressively worse due to his horrible job. He says, "Ever since I started working, every day has been worse than the one before. That means each time you see me, that's on the worse day of my life." That's a pretty extreme statement, right? Or is it?
          Remember the fantastic day I had last week? It was followed by one if the most atrocious Mondays ever. Getting the girls to do their school work felt like pulling teeth. The baby refused to nap except in my arms, went through three changes of clothes (dozens of bibs), and nursed all day long. My five year old took a nap in late afternoon, both messing up bedtime and indicating she was ill (poor girl started running a temp later on). All of this was going on while I attempted to both prepare something for a potluck I was attending and a meal for my family to enjoy in my absence. I felt exhausted at the end of the day, but was it really that atrocious or just really challenging? I am constantly tempted to declare that this time that "you see me, that's on the worst day of my life". I compare my day to the previous, but only in the worst possible way. On that horrible Monday (actually I can't remember which day it was this past week...sleep deprivation makes the days blur together), I was so frazzled that I accidentally put a size 2 diaper on my three year old. It was only several hours later that my three year old informed me that I'd put a baby diaper on her. I had a really good laugh! That moment coupled with the fact that I was able to run, shower, and complete school with the girls long before 2pm actually would indicate a rather successful day. I also got to have some time fellowshipping with friends at the potluck that night (which only the baby attended with me...but that doesn't really even count since he slept like an angel through the entire thing). It all depends on what lens you view my day through: truth, or exaggerated negativity.
         I noticed this comparison game again on Saturday again. Being the "Potty clean-up Princess" plus the "Milk Machine" made feel like the "lord of Laundry" (or should I say "lady") because of all the unexpected loads I had to wash.
I was awakened at 1:30am and informed by my three year old that her diaper hadn't contained her accident in her bed. The baby peed out of his diaper mid-morning. My five year old was too distracted by the outdoors to make it onto the potty in time, resulted in soggy pants and generously sprayed bathroom. My three year old's poopy diaper messed up her bloomers. The baby capped off the day by his poopsplosion at supper time just when I could've been sitting down to the fresh, hot burger my hubby grilled. Don't you love recurring theme days? I felt like all I did was take care of excrement. If I look at the truth of the day though, I was able to spend an hour playing "Shoots and Ladders", vacuum the whole house, finally make resurrection cookies, and facilitate a sleepover. Not bad, huh?
        I want to challenge you to not look at your day as the worst ever, and look at what has been a blessing to you that day. Dwell on that. Ponder that. (I'm totally stealing this idea from Phil. 4:8.) I think it'll make your case of the Mondays go away...it might even change the rest of your days too.