When Monday Isn’t a Fresh Start
Bare Minimum Mondays
After three 12-hour shifts in the ER, my Monday isn’t about productivity — it’s about recovery.
Around here, we call it Bare Minimum Monday.
It’s my zombie, pants-optional, please-don’t-ask-me-for-anything day.
The world might see Monday as a chance to hustle, but for me, it’s the day I put on the brakes and hit stop.
Some Mondays Are for Survival, Not Success
By the time Monday hits, I’ve survived another weekend of controlled chaos, caffeine, and the kind of exhaustion that seeps into your bones. The last thing I need is a motivational quote about seizing the day. All I feel like seizing is a mid-afternoon nap — without guilt.
What I need is coffee that I get to finish while it’s still hot — or an energy drink that I get to finish while it’s still cold — and my water bottle to remind me that I’m basically a complicated houseplant in need of actual hydration and a little sunshine (with SPF, of course).
There may or may not be a bra in the mix. No promises.
The only promise I can make is that I’ll do the best I can with as little effort as possible.
My Kind of Monday
Working weekends means my “Monday” doesn’t look like everyone else’s. I’ve never had a normal schedule, and at this point, I’ve stopped pretending I ever will. What I haven’t stopped doing is giving myself permission to rest — really rest.
Somewhere along the line, “taking a break” became code for “falling behind.”
If I wasn’t on the go, I felt guilty — like I wasn’t productive enough, like I was wasting time. All it ever accomplished was making me more tired. I still didn’t check all the boxes on the to-do list, and I was more exhausted than ever.
But here’s the thing: I’ve done the overachieving version of burnout, and I’m not auditioning for the sequel. Been there, done that, have the T-shirt and the broken mug to prove it.
Bare Minimum Monday is my quiet rebellion — a reset button wrapped in soft clothes and zero expectations.
What Bare Minimum Monday Actually Looks Like
Let’s be honest: it’s not aesthetic. Quite honestly, she’s not even a little cute. Some may even say scary.
It’s me in oversized sweats, hair in a claw clip, coffee first, maybe breakfast, maybe laundry — and that’s the full itinerary.
Some weeks, I toss in a load of towels just to feel accomplished. Other weeks, I scroll Facebook and Instagram like it’s my part-time job, Duncan and Charlie piled on top of me, pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
Spoiler: it’ll still be there tomorrow.
And somewhere between the last sip of caffeine and my third scroll break, I remember that this — this stillness — is exactly what my body and mind needed.
Why Doing Less Feels So Good
Here’s the truth: Bare Minimum Monday isn’t laziness — it’s maintenance.
It’s emotional triage after three straight days of being “on.”
It’s me showing up for me the same way I show up for everyone else.
We glorify being busy like it’s a badge of honor, but the women who rest are the ones still standing when everyone else burns out.
Have you ever heard yourself say, “I don’t know how she does it”?
Well, she’s not doing it. She’s struggling.
For me, Monday isn’t about catching up — it’s about catching my breath. Because when I let myself slow down and hit that reset button, I actually have something left to give the rest of the week.
I show up better when I stop trying to be everything for everyone — even for just one day.
Your Permission Slip
If you need permission to do less, this is it.
You can move slow.
You can stay in those same pajamas and robe.
You can call coffee breakfast and count walking the dogs as cardio.
You can rest without guilt — no gold star required.
So here’s to Bare Minimum Monday — the day we choose peace over pressure, softness over hustle, and grace over guilt.
Because sometimes doing nothing is exactly what gets us back to ourselves.
