Four short lines capture a feeling most people know: the dread and pressure of a busy week. The speaker describes the small gaps between tasks, the "fleeting moments" when there's a chance to catch a breath. But even those pauses are spent "fleeing" from one job to the next, so rest never really arrives. The repeated sound of "fleeting" and "fleeing" makes the day feel like a constant scramble.
In those gaps, tucked "at the back of my mind," the speaker wonders, almost desperately, whether Time could be frozen on an "eternal Sunday." Sunday stands for rest and freedom, the opposite of the title's "Monday Syndrome." The mood is tired, anxious and a little wistful, though the exclamation mark adds a note of playful, half-joking longing. It's a wish that sounds impossible, which is exactly why it feels so honest.