What is the Point of Monday?

Oh, here we go. What is the point of Monday? I can tell you that, in fact, it's nothing. There isn't any more of a point to Monday than there is any other day of the week, and I'm here to drive that pointlessness home better than any other pointless person could.

Why is Monday Pointless?

Well, if you haven't already read my explanation as to what the point of the week is, then you're likely wondering why I'm here to tell you what it is that puts Mondays on the same level of pointless as every other day in our seven-day cycle of futility.

Let me start by breaking down the word "Monday." It shouldn't come as a surprise that the word sounds like "mundane," because it's actually derived from that word. Back in the early days of mankind they called the first day of the week "Mundanus," which is made-up Latin for "pointless anus." Yes, Monday is not only pointless, but it is also considered the butthole of the week, with the mouth and head being Sunday, which means the head of the week is up its own ass, or eating its own ass, depending on how you look at the week.

This all-consuming anus of the Week Snake is what makes us loathe the rest of it, from the abdomen of Tuesday and Wednesday to the boring thorax and neck of Thursday and Friday, respectively. Saturday is but a notch of false hope that leads us to believe that the week is at its peak, even though it's actually just about to shove its face and ass together.

What Else Makes Monday Pointless?

An accurate representation of the week, which is really just Ouroboros in the form of a bunch of stupid days.

What else makes Monday pointless, you ask? Considering it's basically the ass of a snake in the snake's own mouth, I'd think you'd see the pointlessness enough, but you must be pretty dense.

So, here, let me illustrate further why Monday is just as needless as the rest of the week:

You wake up and begin your day by eating rotten tuna fish that's been sitting in your fridge since last Monday. Then you head to work where your boss chews on the corner of his desk for an hour and growls while you try to sort paperwork that should be on your computer, but your boss threw your computer out the window last week so you're unable to do anything. You also realize that you're not wearing any clothes save for a neckerchief you borrowed from your dead cousin last Tuesday.

So, you sit at your upturned desk and wonder why you're even alive when a gorilla swings into your office and proceeds to eat all of the snacks in the break room, leaving you nothing to munch on throughout the day.

The boss then pets the gorilla and makes out with it for a few minutes before the gorilla swings to the office on the floor above, leaving you and your boss and the carcass of your long-deceased coworker to do nothing else for the day.

Then once work is over, you come home to an apartment that has a broken sink that the repair man said was literally impossible to fix or replace because it's been cursed by a Shaman, so you're knee-deep in water as you sit on your soaking couch and can't watch TV because it's been short-circuited by the water. At the same time, you wish it did still work so you could drop it into the water again and hopefully electrocute yourself so you die without having to live this nightmare for another day, let alone another Mundanus.

I think I've illustrated my point about what makes Monday pointless thoroughly enough. So, I ask you, what is the point of Monday if not to remove all pleasantries from existence, which were never really anything but illusory and equally pointless in the first place?

We're all just going to die.