Why Mondays Suck: A Neuropsychiatrist’s Take and a Brief Worksheet for You and How to Turn That Around
If Sunday night make your chest tighten and your mind start spinning, you’re not alone. Neuroscience shows that sleep patterns, dopamine levels, stress hormones, and even cultural messaging all collide to make Monday feel harder than the rest of the week. The good news: there are ways to shift the experience.
by Jeffrey DeSarbo, D.O., The Bucket List DoctorTM
Sunday evening has a very particular mood. The light gets softer, the weekend’s pace slows, and there’s this subtle shift in the air. Maybe you had a genuinely good weekend. Perhaps you went out, rested, or simply had a moment where your brain wasn’t preoccupied and responsible for something. And yet, as the evening approaches its end, there it is—that tightening sensation in your chest, your mind starting to speed up, your comfort shrinking.
Monday is coming. And your brain knows it.
It’s strange, isn’t it? Monday is just another square on the calendar. But it carries a weight that Saturday never will. And neuroscience has a few things to say about that.
During the week, most of us are structured. Alarms, routines, bedtimes that come too late and mornings that come too early. Then the weekend arrives, and our schedule goes loose. We sleep in, we stay up later, we drift. It feels good, and it should. But your internal clock is more sensitive than we think. That shift, just one or two hours of different sleep, creates something scientists call “social jet lag.” On Monday morning, your body is technically in the wrong mental time zone, even though you haven’t crossed a single state line. Your brain is trying to function in Monday-world while your biology is still lingering somewhere back in Saturday.
And then there’s the matter of sleep debt. Most people walk through the week like they owe their brains several hours of rest. The weekend is supposed to be a time when we pay it back. But sleep isn’t a bank. You can’t just throw extra hours at it and expect a clean reset. Instead, you end up disrupting the delicate rhythm of your REM and deep sleep cycles, and your prefrontal cortex, the part of your brain that handles focus, organization, planning, and emotional steadiness, starts Monday slightly hungover from mismanaged rest.
Add to this the dopamine drop. On Friday, there’s anticipation. A reward on the horizon. Something to look forward to. The brain loves that. It fires up the dopamine pathways and says, "Yes, keep going, something good is coming." On Monday, that feeling disappears. Monday is routine. Responsibility. Repetition. The dopamine system goes quieter, and everything feels heavier than it did just two days earlier.
And just when all of that is happening, your body releases extra cortisol, the stress hormone, first thing Monday morning. This is actually your biology trying to help you wake up and meet your day. But when your mind is already tense or overwhelmed, that same surge can feel like anxiety before you’ve even sat up in bed.
Finally, layered over all of this, there’s a cultural story we’ve repeated for decades: Mondays are terrible. Mondays are the enemy. Mondays are something to dread. And the brain, being extremely good at following the stories we tell it, absorbs that message and operates accordingly. When you expect resistance, you find it. When you expect struggle, your brain prepares for a fight. Monday becomes not just a day, but a psychological foothold for discomfort.
So yes, Mondays are hard. Not because we’re weak or dramatic or ungrateful, but because our biology, our chemistry, our psychology, and our culture all collide at the same point on the timeline.
But, and here’s where the shift happens, your brain also loves anticipation. It loves something to look forward to. It loves novelty, curiosity, and small sparks of reward. In other words, the same system that makes Fridays feel light can also be used to soften and reshape Mondays.
This is where bucket listing comes in, in the simplest, truest way; not as a list of grand, exotic, expensive adventures, but as a way of creating meaningful anticipation.
Here’s a practice that works surprisingly well: Instead of letting Sunday night be the space where you mourn the loss of the weekend, use it to plant something small to look forward to on Monday. Not a big task. Not a challenge. Something gently enjoyable. Something that reminds you that your life is yours, even inside your routine.
It could be trying a new coffee shop instead of the same one. Or walking a slightly different route. Or playing music that feels alive on your morning commute. Or texting someone you genuinely like and asking about their day. Something small enough to do, but intentional enough to spark anticipation.
This is bucket listing at the micro level. The kind that doesn’t require airfare, daring, or planning. Just curiosity. You’re not trying to make Monday extraordinary. You’re trying to make Monday yours. Because the real problem with Monday isn’t Monday itself. It’s the lack of anticipation that makes it hard.
If Sunday night becomes the moment you choose one small thing to look forward to on Monday morning, the brain shifts out of dread and into motion. And once anticipation returns, everything else, sleep rhythm, dopamine tone, stress levels, has something to align around. No one needs Monday to be magical. But if Monday can feel even one degree more intentional, it stops being something your brain braces against. This shift, from dread to anticipation, is how we break the cycle and reclaim the start of our week.
BONUS: Your Sunday Night Reflection Worksheet
The Bucket List Doctor™
Take about 7–12 minutes.
Keep it soft. No pressure. The goal is to notice and choose, not to fix or achieve.
1. How Did My Weekend Actually Feel?
(Free-write 3–5 sentences. Don’t evaluate, just describe.)
What emotions showed up this weekend?
What restored me? What tired me?
Where did my mind naturally go when it had space?
Write:
2. What Am I Carrying Into Monday?
Name the emotional tone you're bringing into the week. No judgment.
I am entering Monday feeling:
☐ Calm
☐ Anxious
☐ Neutral
☐ Overloaded
☐ Hopeful
☐ Distracted
☐ Something else: __________________
If I were to describe the why behind that feeling in one sentence:
3. One Thing I Can Let Go Of for Now
What is one thing I keep mentally gripping that does not need to be solved tonight?
I can set this down until tomorrow:
(Setting something down is not failure. It’s neurological conservation.)
4. What’s One Small Thing I Can Look Forward To Tomorrow?
This is the micro bucket-list moment that makes Monday feel like your life again.
It should be small, doable, and meaningful—not productive.
Examples:
A different walk route. A different outfit style.
A new coffee shop. A new lunch spot.
A music playlist. A moment of connection. A photo montage of your day.
A five-minute morning outside. A lunchtime meditation.
Tomorrow, I will look forward to:
Why this matters to me:
This creates anticipation, which gently raises dopamine levels. That’s the chemistry of reclaiming your Monday.
5. How Can I Support My Mood in the First Hour of Monday?
Pick just one tiny act that makes your brain feel safe, steady, or grounded:
Tomorrow morning, I will:
☐ Open the shades and get sunlight
☐ Drink water before coffee
☐ Play music that lifts me
☐ Take 5 slow breaths before touching my phone
☐ Step outside for 2 minutes
☐ Something else: __________________________
This is not self-improvement. It’s a self-signal. You’re signaling your brain: “This is my life. I am here. I am choosing.”
6. Closing Thought
Bucket list experiences are about novelty - doing something different. Make it a bucket list goal to make Mondays your novelty day. A day that is intentionally going to be a day of difference, in as many ways you can, from the moment you wake up, till the moment you fall asleep. This is a powerful way to change the meaning and anticipation of Mondays. So finish this thought:
Tomorrow does not have to be perfect. It only needs to be different; A couple of things I will do different will be to: