#1: How do you feel about Wednesday?
October 25, 2010
I really am not in the mood to do this right now: I just ate a satisfyingly filling peanut butter and Tofurky sandwich so I wish to be sleeping. But whats a challenge if you don’t even try on day one? I don’t have an answer to that, it was more rhetorical. Here goes nothing…
Arguably the worst day of the week, Monday sits on a folding lawn chair in a joyless, gray atmosphere that seems to be constantly out shined by the conceited mist occupying the air around Friday’s pedestal. Jealous of our clear favoritism, it seeks revenge against students and patrons every Monday morning: forcing our minds into the Novocain-like serenity clouding our vision of the nervously yelling alarm clock.
Wednesday – the child with a question on this week’s math problem – stands awkwardly amidst the two quarrelsome parents. What is Wednesday but I pest to the parents? Not nearly as irksome as Monday’s morning and unable to duplicate the joy of Friday’s afternoon, Wednesday is but another citizen.
I pity Wednesday. He tries to give you the feeling of Thursday’s afternoon “its-almost-Friday” high, but never succeeds. He hides in the empty safety of his airless calendar square from Tuesday’s “I-can’t-believe-tomorrow’s-only-Wednesday” blues, but is secretly always emotionally hurt by the (hopefully) jealous insult.
I’m thankful for Wednesday. When I finally straighten my back from the crushing, brute strength of the combined force known harshly as “The Beginning of the Week,” Wednesday is there waiting in the middle of the dark tunnel with a flashlight. Both of us a little too fragile to handle the work week along, but strong enough to ask for help from a faithfully loyal friend, elbow are way through the crowd to reach the ocean of Thursday. Standing tearfully on the shore, Wednesday sees me off until next week when I’ll return for his help.
I have a soft spot for Wednesday. Some time back in Middle School I fell for Wednesday. I look back on all the weeks I found myself running desperately through the darkness to find him, and then the sigh of relief as I saw him running towards me too. I couldn’t help show some obvious favoritism, turning the angelic face of Friday into a contorted mask of disbelief. The truth is, I’m a sucker for the ignored, a fan of the unappreciated and sweet on the middleman. So indecisive that I fear choosing extremes. But my tendency to be on the fence doesn’t stop me from speaking up for my opinion. I’ll defend Wednesday to the end. Trustworthy friends are hard to come by, but Wednesday has always been a constant in my life. And as far as I know, he’ll always be waiting for me Tuesday at 11:59 PM.
A little too poetic and unoriginal, but I’ve got upwards of a year come off my OD of figurative language… If I lay off the metrical drugs some day.