The first couple of weeks of 2026 have followed a similar rhythm that, I can only hope, will not be repeated throughout the rest of the year.
If I had to define this rhythm, it’s be that Monday is a day of low dread — a day where what needs to be done for the rest of the week slowly becomes clear and it’s more than I expected, with at least one surprise waiting for me that comes entirely out of left field and leaves me trying to work out what I need to do with it. Tuesday is then a day of feeling of feeling overwhelmed by the weight of expectation and/or deadlines and/or things that simply need to be done, and then Wednesday is that but more so, and with a side order of resentment that it’s quite so much. As I’ve said for the past two weeks, Tuesday evening feels like a Thursday, and Wednesday feels like a Friday is never going to arrive.
Then, on both weeks, Thursday proved to be surprisingly easy — a through line in whatever is lying ahead of me appears, or I figure out a solution to whatever the biggest problem facing me, or something similar. Thursday turned out to be a respite, this odd moment where everything feels better than the last three days and I have a moment at one point of thinking to myself, wow, I can’t believe tomorrow’s Friday, that’s so great, I’m so close to the weekend with no small sense of relief.
Where the two weeks did differ was the Friday. The first week, the Friday followed through on the easy feeling of the day before, and I just slid into the weekend was gratitude and relief. And last week, it was just the opposite: Friday was a fight, and I struggled through the entire day like it was quicksand, wondering if there was something worse waiting for me that I couldn’t see just yet. All things being equal, I preferred the week before.
And yet, the two weeks felt the same, by the time the weekend arrived. The shape of them, the to-and-fro of it all. It felt like something, somewhere, had decided this was the calendar of events and I was just learning about my new schedule. The second week had a surreal Groundhog Day feel to it that made me nervous. Surely, I thought, this isn’t what it’s going to be like the entire time. This can’t be right.
I said something similar at this time last year, that I hoped January didn’t set the tone of the year to follow; in the year’s defense, it didn’t. It was arguably far worse. Here’s hoping that doesn’t repeat itself, either. We’ll see. 50 weeks to go.