Number 1
What happens when you decide to go out for a meal on a Monday? People do, there's no law against it, lots of birthdays and celebrations happen on a Monday too. So, let's talk about the head chef, for the purposes of this diatribe, the head chef is a 'he'.
Well, rewind to Sunday evening, the head chef has just finished cleaning up some four hours after service, since Friday morning he's worked around 40 hours. For many people that's a whole working week, but he's done two (or three) days prior to that as well. So he's looking forward to going home and eating a meal (sitting down), but actually, by the time he gets home, it's too late to eat (again).
Monday he'll be at home, binge eating, and his staff will also be enjoying their 'weekend.' If the generic head chef's restaurant is actually open, then the kitchen will be being run by the sous chef (if you're lucky,) ably assisted by people who managed to get a shift or two off during the weekend. Or perhaps, it's a chain restaurant, and the staff on any one day are just as likely to be as good (or bad) as any other. A good employer will be letting their staff enjoy a proper day off after a busy weekend, hence, it's always best to avoid eating out on a Monday. (And you know not to visit your fishmonger then, right? Well don't anyway.)
Of course, this all cuts both ways... You're a head chef, you've got one day off, you've just eaten everything in the fridge for breakfast, been to the shops for lunch, and fancy not having to cook again for dinner. Where do you go for a decent meal out? There's nothing for it, you'll have to do it yourself again (or get a different day off!)
A customer was telling me of his past life as a hotel manager, and having taken on a new hotel, happened to get to eat out at Le Manoir Aux Quat' Saisons, and actually got to speak to Raymond Blanc himself. (He puts on an act, but it'll take more than wandering round the kitchen saying "Ooh la la" and "viola" in a phony accent to convince me that Ray White didn't just come up with the French identity as a ruse to get a chef job in the 60's.) Anythehow, this chap was boasting to Raymond about the great restaurant in his new hotel and, lo and behold, the great chef actually turns up to try it out! On his day off! On a Monday!... When the head chef comes back into work on the Tuesday, he's greeted by the Sous with a grin a mile wide... "Guess who I cooked for yesterday?"
So anyway, your head chef has eaten everything in the kitchen, maybe done the gardening, fixed that picture frame that was falling off the wall, now what? His thoughts turn to work, it's never far away, the week just gone, and the one to come (He's probably got to order ingredients today anyway.) he thinks about the food, the recipes, the menu, the staff, the reviews, the customers, the bank balance, the reviews, the competition, the menu, the reviews, the plans for the next menu/season, the reviews, he might even be checking the bookings for the next few days. Some, many, or all of those things may be (have been) playing on his mind and it'd be really good to get some things off his chest...
So he gets his laptop out (checks facebook) and starts (checks Insta) writing...
...and falls asleep.
I feel for ya.