As long as people like this are around, I figure I’m safely ensconced on the “sane” side of the room, so you can safely read on, assured that nothing is likely to snap in your synaptic cable system. Really, it’s okay. I’m just eccentric, not a homicidal serial killer.
I woke up this morning with the usual, “oh shit, it’s Monday!” I say that knowing that a lot of you can relate. It’s common enough, the “Monday blues” as they are known far and wide, perhaps as far as Antares for all I know. It seems unfair, hating Monday as I do, since well, I’m RETIRED and so the whole reason for hating Monday doesn’t really exist for me.
But the WORLD keeps revolving around Monday, so naturally we schedule our lives around it even when there is no earthly or extraterrestrial reason to. The fact that I KNOW this, and still hate the twenty-four hours that constitute the “first” day of the week, is well, unfortunate to say the least, and places me in a classification that will be revealed at some later date.
As I noted earlier, it has a nice M to start it off with. M, I point out, is a substantial and stable letter, firmly centered on it’s three point stance. Unlike the L which seems to have forgotten to complete itself, or the U which appears to be ready to topple over at even the merest poof of a breeze.
For reasons that are unknown to any human who thinks, we name all the weekdays with “day” at the end, which is both unoriginal and suggests a certain lack of memory power. And as I’ve remarked before, we completely ignore the “night” aspect of the 24 hours that encompass the “day”. So it seems we have a bigoted disposition toward day and against night.
But that’s a whole ‘nother issue entirely isn’t it?
After that there is nothing unusual about it. It’s followed by a O and an N. Tuesday, as you can see is followed by a U and E, which makes it a very precarious day all together, with all the letters threatening to fall on their ass, lacking firm foundation. Wednesday starts off okay, but then gets all confounded with letters that you can’t even hear, like D, again the instability fairly cries out for a crutch. Thursday has a H, which is okay at a capital but pitiful as a lower case, having lost it’s base completely, and followed by another U, making the whole day dangerous and not to be trusted. Friday, is well, who can argue with the day that precedes the weekend even if it has a letter that looks like it died on the way to it’s own funeral?
I’m sure you never thought of these things, but they are important.
Why how else are you to discover your favorite letter? Everybody should have one.
I used to like things like capital D’s for instance, because you could do loops and swirls and make it quite pretty. G had possibilities too, if you notice. But my favorite was always J. You could do a lot with a J if you really worked at it.
Now, back to Monday. You see, the reason Monday became the most hated day of the week, is because contrary to any common sense, humans for the most part engage in work that they dislike. It starts with school, which is disliked by most, but not all, but most. Then we go to college to learn stuff, which is going by choice and not requirement, and still, mostly we don’t study things that we like.
Mostly we study what will make us rich.
But we don’t get rich enough it, so we have to do it a long time, and since we hate it, we hate Monday, which is the day all that work crap begins. It’s called transference. We can safely hate Monday, not so much our jobs, lest we start listing the methods of suicide least messy.
We all love Saturday, because that’s not a work day and we begin to do the shit we like to do. But we only do it for one day, two at most. Some of us feel guilty about having a good time on Saturday, so we go to church on Sunday to beg forgiveness, think of our sins, and promise to do better, which we do at least on the drive home.
Then we sit in front of the TV and drink beer and complain about how life sucks. A bunch of guys beat each other up for our enjoyment while we grouse. Then we nap, because usually we are fairly sleep deprived from worrying about all sorts of things, most of which we can’t do much about, but theorize that if we could, our lives would be a lot better.
We wake up, and grouse some more, because the weekend is nearly over and so we lose ourselves in make-believe lives of real housewives, which are neither real nor probably housewives, until we stagger into bed.
When we wake up, it’s MONDAY! How’s that for the old stick in the eye?
I hope this explains things to you, and convinced you that J should be your favorite letter. After all, it’s easier to be June and July and that beats out a January, so it’s got that goin’ for it. Unless of course you live in Hawaii where it probably doesn’t matter much.
*Part 372 of the on-going series: homo sapiens–why you are better off being a salamander.