Here it was Thursday and you wouldn’t leave me alone. You just had to follow me, like some crazed stalker. You tried sucking me back into that dismal state that only Wednesday drama can do. You followed me into Thursday, clutching onto my sanity and peace of mind. You suck, Wednesday.
Normally I don’t consider Wednesday “hump day” or get-me-to-Friday-already day, because when you’ve got two kids the days sort of blend together and they sort of lose their feeling. You don’t realize what day it is until you turn on AMC and see what’s playing. Although sometimes I wish my life was an hour-long drama or better yet a half-hour comedy. It could be wrapped up and resolved by the end of the episode and I’d be drinking coffee at the end of the day and smiling as the credits rolled. It’s too bad I don’t drink coffee. Everyone I know drinks coffee and they seem to be getting passed Wednesday just fine.
I normally let go of 24 periods that suck. I try not to have too many emotional hangovers because they rob me of the chance for a better day when the sun rises. But not today. Pinche Wednesday.
I needed it to be neatly wrapped up already. I didn’t feel like re-winding the events of the day and going through all the what-if scenarios. I was so wishing that Jack Bauer would swoop on in and save this nuclear mess that I call life. But Jack Bauer did not come.
It’s days like this that I don’t like gray hair or wrinkles or age 37. Days like this make me look in the mirror and wonder if I have any brown hair left willing and able to take on any new adventures out there. I know there’s Nice N’ Easy, but that’s like cheating. I don’t mind having gray hair. I like them when they are born out of excitement and living an awesome state of existence. Stuff like bungy jumping, zip lining, paddle boarding or anything ending in “ing” really. But when these gray little fiends rise out of the depths of despair during the “for worse” part of your days I’m not so much a fan.
No Wednesday you suck. You gave me a few new ones, and I wasn’t really happy about it.
And then it happened. The death of Wednesday, just like that and it was all because of a tea party.
A tea party.
I had forgotten that I was invited to a pre-Mother’s Day Tea Party at my son’s preschool. In truth I wasn’t sure what to expect with some of the Children of the Corn parents planning to attend the festivities. But I promised my son I would attend, so I braced myself and forged on.
It ended up being exactly what I needed. Thursday rocked. It was definitely a cure to my emotional hangover.
Thursday … yeah … definitely the cure.