What is it about we humans that necessitates the division of time? I suppose that’s a rhetorical question, more or less, given that the revolution of the earth around the sun has more to do with it than some obsessive tic we’ve developed - the need to parse and count.
But still, it’s true; not only do we count off the days, but we ascribe to them, various ‘traits’. We all know Mondays are ‘blue’ and after the Mamas and the Papas sang of it, we knew it also to be untrustworthy, for some reason. Tuesdays are for hunkering down and settling into the work week - while Wednesdays, being the middle, are considered ‘hump’ days - and there is no sexual connotation to that denotation, mind you. Thursdays often find us beginning to anticipate what’s coming next and with head down, we plough ahead. Of course, Fridays are meant for us to to ‘Thank God’, for it marks the final day before the ever-blessed weekend. And the weekend? Well, the weekend is manna from Chronos, of course.
And what if one is outside the regular bounds of the work week - is it still necessary to count it out? Well, of course it is. I may not work outside the home but it is a ‘work week’ all the same for me - and I look forward to the weekend just as eagerly as the next bloke. Particularly Sunday - okay, maybe not the laundry part of Sunday - but the rest of it, yes. For it is the one day that I actually ‘take off’ and give myself ‘free time’ to do whatever I please - anything that isn’t regimented will do.
And here we are at Friday - and I’m quite tired and ready for what comes next.
I’m sure you are as well.
Enjoy!
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