Let it not be Tuesday

Always one to dance to the beat of a different song entirely, I hate Tuesdays.  I know this is an unpopular sentiment.  I know I am supposed to hate Mondays, but I don’t.  I love Mondays.

Mondays are either the end to the relaxed idleness that drives you from the house, raving mad after 36 hours, or following a more exciting weekend, a time for a deserved rest at work, a breather, a time to slow it down after messing recklessly with your circadian rhythms.  Mondays are fresh starts.  Mondays are the days you tackle all those junky old problems that you couldn’t face on Friday, simply because it was Friday.  You may have procrastinated because the sun was shining and you were in too good a mood to deal with nasty jobs, such as, accounting and/or opening letters of rejection.  Or, you may have procrastinated  on Friday because the day was gloomy and you felt sad, and you knew that Friday is the day of the week people are most likely to get fired, and if you were going to get fired, well, why handle all the junk jobs?  Why not just walk away?

It’s not so hard to handle receipts and rejection on a Monday, partly because you don’t have time to wallow in them.  But first, on a Monday, you have a few things to do — catch up on email, schedule appointments for the week, visit everyone to see how they spent their weekend, go out for lunch, and re-check your email to see if anything important, or at least, interesting, has come through while you were gone.  Before you know it, the day is over, and you go home happy.  “Hah,” you think, “Monday is over.  Not so bad.  Only four days left to the weekend!  Not bad at all.”

Then…then comes the sneakiest day of the week.  Tuesday is the day you actually face the crappy jobs left over from Friday.  Also by Tuesday, people around you have woken up and found other time-consuming and probably frustrating jobs that you have to do.  That, coupled with the work you were actually supposed to have been doing on Monday, means you are overloaded on Tuesday and wishing it were Friday, so someone would fire you before you had to deal with “the stuff“ you had so confidently pushed to the centre front of your desk on Friday, so it would be all ready to go on Monday.  Tuesdays are just, generally, bad days.

Equipment breaks on Tuesdays.  If the windshield wiper on your car is going to develop a self-destructive tendency and fling itself sideways off the edge of your vehicle, it will be on a Tuesday.  This will only happen if it is raining, and it will only happen on the driver’s side, but I guarantee, it will be on a Tuesday.

Computers always crash on Tuesdays.  Eyeglasses go out of alignment on Tuesdays and make you feel as if you are swimming on dry land, and as if maybe you have inherited the mental illness gene that runs in your family.

Movies are cheaper on Tuesdays and so are groceries, but if it’s raining and the wiper doesn’t work on the drivers’ side, what difference does it make?  If you risk it, there will be a deluge as soon as you walk from the store with the six heavy bags that contain $236.43 worth of groceries, and you know, without a doubt, that the rain will last forever.  If someone is going to run into the back of your vehicle while you are yielding and trying to focus through misaligned glasses and a wet windshield, he will choose to do it on a Tuesday.  Trust me, Tuesdays are bad news.

 

© 2012 Sue Farrell Holler

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