When I was a child I struggled with transitions, particularly changes in routine. At my elementary school, we used to have these days called “R&R days” (rest and relaxation days) and, let me tell you, they were phenomenal. Why, as adults, we don’t have designated R&R days is beyond me - we could all use a mental health day from time to time, right?! But, I digress, let’s not get away from the focus of this story - a struggle with transitions.
More often than not, these R&R days were on a Monday, leading to an enjoyable three-day weekend. Being a kid in elementary school, I had no responsibility whatsoever. Footloose and fancy free to do what I like, when I like (subject to my parents' demands and assigned chores, of course). Outside of a few minor obligations, the time was mine.
I would play with my sister constantly. Honestly, as children, you could rarely find us separated. If so, we were fighting about something inconsequential, as young siblings do. But, R&R days always meant a full day of joyous laughter and creativity. Periodic three-day weekends can turn any kid spoiled, sprouting a minor addiction to the additional playtime. I was no exception. I LOVED these mini-vacations. But - like all two-day weekends - three-day weekends eventually must end. Predictably enough, Tuesday mornings come in what seems like a flash. Adults, in their mature mental state, have the ability to look past this eventual snap back to reality and have a positive outlook - "Hey, at least I only have a four-day-week!" As a child, my mind wasn't wired this way. Tuesday may as well have been Monday. It was all the same.
This dread made me flat out bummed...I have to go to school, use my thinking brain, and worst of