Mondays are special. We all know that. To most of us, they are special without being endearing. Options on how to deal with that are limited. Few of us can afford to just sleep through the Monday (which would then make Tuesday the new Monday, anyway). Working the entire weekend just to alleviate the Monday effect is probably not going to be helpful, either. What I have been doing ever since I came to the US in order to make the most of my Mondays is to adopt a routine that allows for a slow start into the week.
So every Monday, I get up at around eight in the morning and start the week with a nice bike ride. I tour the nice spots of CW, explore some of the Williamsburg neighborhoods and just breathe in as much authentic American life as I can. The weather is always nice: sunny, but not too hot; the tourists have left to become normal citizens again, and by now I have found the perfect route for my weekly tour. It is almost too idyllic. Since I am doing this every Monday morning, I already know some of the people whom I usually meet on my little excursion. There’s the guy who lived in Germany 20 years ago and still tries to convince his wife to go back, there are two Chinese work and travelers who always wait for the bus to Busch Gardens, a middle-aged woman always taking her dog for a walk on DOG street. It’s almost like having a life outside campus.
After 20 minutes or so, I usually take a short break. I find a public place where I can go indoors to enjoy some AC and where I can sit down as long as I need to. Also, I usually meet more real American people there. They seem more than happy to tell me about the job they should be at, or about how they do not enjoy being there, yet keep coming back. I also have itsy-bitsy conversations with women in different windows about driving in the US. Sometimes, we discuss whether I need to re-take a driving test or not, why non-Americans were not born with an SSN automatically attached to their middle name, and why I cannot get an American driver’s license this time. Once, after raising my voice a tiny bit, I even got introduced to a person whose only concern it was for me to find the exit of the building as soon as possible (In fact, the building is neither very big nor particularly maze-like. I guess they just wanted to make sure that I would not get lost on the way out).
But usually, after two hours or so, I just ride my bike back to campus, vowing that I will continue trying to get an American driver’s license at the DMV the following Monday!