Seven days in a week. Seven sins. Coincidence? Maybe, yes. Maybe not. May be the seven days of weeks were each meant to be spent in the lap of one sin.
Let’s start with Sunday. Hmmm…what shall it be? I think, Sloth. That is what I do. I spend the day sleeping, lazing, eating and being a couch potato. Siesta is the highlight of my day before the evening rolls around with unwelcome thoughts about Monday.
Aargghhh. Monday. I think all the sane people in the world hate Mondays. If you are a student, you have to get up bright and early to reach school / college on time. And if you are working like yours truly, you still have to reach office and tackle all the work that you postponed on Friday. Not a happy day for sure. So, what sin should we have for the blue, blue Mondays? Envy, perhaps. Because every spare moment and otherwise that I get on this accursed day is spent envying all the people whose week does not begin on Monday – like toddlers, or socialites, or people on leave.
Somehow Monday rolls by and Tuesday arrives. You are truly into the week now and are already longing for that weekend which is an eternity away. You are depressed and irritated and frustrated. All you want is a break from the drudgery. Surely that’s not too much to wish for. So, in search of some relief, I indulge in eating out. Perhaps, eating is a misnomer. Gorging is more like it. Hot, hot pasta. Cheesy garlic bread. Steaming pizza. Clues do not get bigger than this. Tuesdays for Gluttony.
Wednesday. Middle of the week. Half the week has gone by in a blur. The deadlines are looming. The last weekend seems like a distant memory from another lifetime. Saturday is a faraway dream. Work piles on. Things that can go wrong, go wrong. Murphy is in a malicious mood. Sure bets all fail. The unexpected happens. Tempers simmer, then boil and finally spill over. Frowns are common. Smiles, rare. Grouchiness, surly monosyllables and self-righteous indignation run havoc. Wednesdays, unless I am on a vacation, are dedicated to Wrath.
Thursdays should be better considering that I am so close to the coveted weekend. But sadly, no. Because those reports are still to be sent. The fine tuning yet to happen. The grass on the other side seems so much greener. I want more. More money. Less work. More play. Less drudgery. Daydreams that I cannot indulge in lay their silken traps. I want all the luxuries. The sophisticated apartment. The beautiful farmhouse, complete with a picket fence. The sleek, sexy cars. All the material comforts. There is no higher goal or aim than instant gratification. I want. I should get. So, yeah, Thursdays belong to Greed.
Finally, Friday rolls around. Somehow you have managed to finish the most urgent work. And you can almost smell the end of the tunnel. Saturday beckons. And you feel not an ordinary sense of accomplishment. You have managed to beat the (Herculean) odds. The universe had conspired against you but it could not crush your indomitable spirit. You have survived the week and emerged victorious. Ergo, Pride reigns supreme.
Ah, the sumptuous Saturday. It’s the carrot at the end of the stick. The day to go out. Watch movies. Shop. Meet friends. Shop. Visit your relatives. Shop. Catch up with your chores. Shop. I can see that you are getting the drift. Saturdays are meant for Lusting after all things bright and beautiful – be it a dress, a pair of earrings, shoes or books. And isn’t it poetic – the week that begins in extreme inertia ends on a passion so strong.
Being an unabashed sinner, that is how my week goes by. Do tell me, how does your week align itself to the Seven Deadly Sins? Or are you a Saint? ;-)