Let me set the scene: It’s Monday morning, 7:47 a.m. and I am running down the street to catch the bus. One step outside and the cold breeze smacks me in the face, but I push past it just to make my way to Bus 15-800. The greatest bus I’ve been on, the bus of all buses, need I say more?

Every Monday morning the dejected and gloomy bus is usually quiet. Students are either grasping on to the last few moments of rest before a school day or they’re listening to music. This is typical of a bus ride after a weekend of relaxation that was abruptly ended by the piercing sound of an alarm clock or in my case, a loud Dominican woman whom I call mother yelling “Shemar! It’s 7:20!” when in reality it’s 6:59 a.m.

But you get the point. It’s early and ugh, it’s Monday. An approximately 30-minute long bus ride to school is how the morning begins. I get on the bus, do my handshake routine with my best friend, “dap” everyone else up, plug myself into my music, and we’re on the way.

This entire reality is antithetical on a Friday afternoon after eight grueling hours of hard work, and some daydreaming just to ease the pain for five consecutive days. The stroll to Bus 15-800 is jubilant, students smiling and laughing and rushing to get home. I’m reminded of the weekend that is literally a bus ride away. This time, the bus ride is not an obstacle I must fight and struggle through but rather a pleasant and enjoyable experience. The upbeat and mirthful energy that is exerted is quickly felt. Jokes are exchanged and it’s joy all the way home.

Two experiences which are polar opposites, yet weird because they both take place in the same location. It’s crazy how a weekday can change the moods of so many students and workers alike.

I’m not the only one who notices either. Junior Tywan Williams shares the same pain and perception of the difference in moods on the bus. “The bus ride is saddening because Monday’s are horrible, but on Friday’s everybody is cool and ‘turnt’,” said Williams.

I experienced the first half of this reality yesterday, and it was even gloomier considering it signaled the end of Spring Break.

The agonies of Mondays, compared to the bliss of Fridays. Locked down on Mondays or locked and loaded for the weekend on Fridays. These are  strange contrasts of riding out my days on Bus 15-800.