Rhetorical Analysis: WikiHow’s How to Overcome the Sunday Night Blues

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WikiHow has officially put together the worst steps to get over your Sunday Night Blues. Whatever square wrote this clearly does not have the same Scaries as the rest of us. Their weekend out probably consisted of having two glasses of red wine at a hookah bar on the upper east side after hitting up a Saturday matinee with their study group. Meanwhile, the rest of us are crushing life on a roof-deck and/or patio while drinking Miami Vices and listening to straight party bangers. Bro, take a seat and let me handle this one.

  1. Recognize it for what it is. Hey dickhead - been there, done that. How do you think I got myself here? I recognized that I devastated my body all weekend and I’m trying not to be on the verge of emotional suicide. You describe such reasons as being “overwhelmed by people, not eating properly, not sleeping enough.” All the above, dude. I just spent the weekend with 200 of my closest friends eating nachos, cheeseburgers, and an entire large pizza at 3:30am Sunday morning. Not sleeping enough? You try sleeping enough when beers and pizza are causing an indigestion-ruckus in your chest.
  2. Realize that feeling the blues on Sunday is not uncommon.I know I’m not alone. This sinking feeling that I have isn’t because I feel incredibly single (which I am). It’s because I have to wait five more fucking days to crush it with the only people I like in this world. All I have to look forward to before TGIF’ing is being someone’s cubicle bitch and happy hours that are just one big cocktease for the Big Show that is my weekend.
  3. Think about the week ahead. You’re kidding me, right? You think this is some kind of joke? Why the hell do you think I have these blues in the first place? Because the best part of my week is behind me. This shit is worse than the Christmas-come-down. Actually, shit, maybe you’re right. Checking my bank account Monday morning? That won’t suck. Checking my 3,000 emails about nothing? Yeah, can’t wait. Trying to act like I’m not still cold sweating when I walk into work? Easy. You’re right WikiHow. Thinking about my week ahead is really making this fucking better.
  4. Tackle the reasons behind your blues.I drank 250 Miller Lites this weekend. I spent 50% of my last paycheck between two bars. My body is devastated with bender bruises. I’m tired as hell because I never saw my bed before 3am all weekend. I texted my ex-girlfriend, “Suck me, beautiful” on my Saturday walk home. Boom, reasons tackled. Didn’t help.
  5. Tackle the dead-end week or that general vague feeling of despair. Seriously, Wikihow. Why do you think I’m here? That “general vague feeling of despair” is the definition of Scaries.
  6. Take care of yourself. Alright, yeah. Next weekend I’ll just pound a bunch of quinoa tabouli instead of nachos, and Kombucha instead of Fireball. Are you out of your mind? My idea of taking care of myself is self-medicating my body and mind with awesome times and cold beer. Sew me.
  7. Make plans to make changes. I do this every single Sunday night. It’s the “I’m-Never-Drinking-Again Syndrome” that turns me into a lame dad who only drinks on holidays. Then a buzz comes over me at work Friday afternoon and the only thing I want in life is a happy hour filled with shots and chicks. Some things never change, and I don’t hate that.
  8. Change Sunday night behaviors. Why would I want to change my Sunday night behaviors? I love shaking in my bed. I enjoy waking up at 3am with sweats. My favorite pastime is listening to my thoughts shout at me about how retarded I was all weekend. My Sunday night behaviors are on point. Oh, no, wait. That’s why I’m here.
  9. Seek professional treatment. As If I wasn’t scared enough, now I need to consider seeking professional help regarding how hard I boozed all weekend? What’s next? Rehab with Hank Moody? Jesus Christ. I actually wasn’t even that scared before I read the phrase, “Seek professional treatment.” Now I’m frightened out of my skull.
  10. Write a letter to yourself and open it on the next Friday. Dear Me, Don’t stop being awesome. Love, Me.
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