I’d rather eat the seafood gumbo our school offered last week than be told by my mom to get up on Monday mornings. I’m not even sure how to describe the oppressive misery of getting out from Sunday nights cocoon and entering a week full of short-answer questions, finding theta and learning about how our forefathers schemed harder in Philadelphia than French Montana at a video shoot- but it sucks. Mondays mean no hot water, no sunshine, and porridge for every meal. But count your blessings- Mondays are better than Tuesdays.