The Godless heathen I am did notice, since yesterday, that we are in the Holy Week, the one leading to Easter. Yesterday was of course Palm Sunday, today is Holy Monday. Which means... Well, nothing at first. Monday is just a boring, monotonous working day, the first of the week. This didn't change. When I was a child, growing up in a still Catholic society, Holy Monday was at school a rerun of Palm Sunday. My parents being Godless heathens (which I didn't know at that time), we didn't go to mass so I didn't have the real day, but at school we spent a good deal of the day with palms, crosses made of palms and doing a bit of a ceremony, praying, telling the story of Palm Sunday. I guess it was easier to be brainwashed through gimmicks.I learn from Wikipedia that the stories of the Scriptures associated with Holy Monday have, among others, the cursing of the fig tree. Which I find very mean, if anything like this ever happened, as I love fig trees. Seriously, cursing a tree? That is cold.
If I had the power to curse, I would curse Monday as a day in general (although I suspect that through the ages, having been cursed over and over again, something stuck to Monday) and Holy Monday in particular. Because nowadays, in my experience, Holy Monday is a Monday that feels longer, where Easter and the weekend is closer, yet feels so far away. Because the closer you get to a holiday, the longer the days are until you actually get there. So every Holy Monday, it feels even more like Monday than usual, it feels more like Hell. Like it will never end. So it is for me an Accursed Monday.
And Boris Johnson Resigns
8 hours ago