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On the Heels of Monday


Tuesday’s are the sophomore year of the week. Things have started, you feel the false confidence of a dead Monday, and the middle of the workweek is almost there. But I’m not a huge fan. Tuesday’s are somehow my busiest day and I don’t know how.

When I was growing up I had boy scouts on Tuesday’s, and then in college I had (among other things) clubs on Tuesday’s, and now I have meetings all day and record with Marie. It’s fun and I love it, but the exhaustion always loves to creep in right when I feel the stride of the week. Something about twos.

Do you think the week starts on Sunday or Monday? I used to think it started on Monday, then I realized there was a familiar dread in Sunday evenings which lent itself to the start of the workweek. That’s not to say Sunday’s are bad, but they have a way of feeling finite in a way that other days do not. It is the sun rising slow on the knowledge that this is your last day of the weekend.

I of course speak from a place of relative privilege as I am able to have the weekends off. I am forever grateful for it since I get to watch Amelia and take care of the apartment. In the end it is living one way or another and Tuesday could be the start of my week in the sense that any other day ending in Y could fill that same role. Time is a flat circle and it helps us continue the cycle of living, decaying, and trying again.

Love you mom, dad, sis, Amelia, Marie, kitty


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