Weekday Whimsicals
A Wednesday, when all is said and done, is much like a Thursday. Perhaps a little more cyan than magenta but really and for all practical purposes, the same. Identical. Indistinguishable. Duplicate. Matching. Carbon copy. Dead ringer.
...
I forgot what day it was today. Seemed to think I had already done Wednesday. Had the feeling Wednesday had already done its thing. Felt that I'd been "Wednesday'd". But alas, no. For Wednesday had just started. But it was a sneaky Wednesday. Unlike most of it's anscestors before it, today it jumped up and in a loud and distinct voice (with breath smelling slightly of gooseberry) stated "Hello Tobbë! I'm ... Thursday!". I should have realised then that something was amiss. Weekdays very rarely exclaim their intentions. It's more of a weekend thing. But not having the stomach to, nor really the knowledge of how to, I did not argue.
So merrily I went about my day (well, not my day, the day belongs to all, whether they want it or not) and thought no more about it. Upon hindsight, though, I realise that this Wednesday was (and at this hour of the night, still is) a foxy character. You see, his brothers and sisters would be hard pressed to get away with this ruse. Grumpy Monday and the strict Miss Tuesday are far too close to the wild and raucous Saturday and his regretful twin sister Sunday to manage the sting. Methodical Thursday and excitable Friday are already in anticipation mode for any type of shenanigans. But bored and crafty Mr Midweek, good ol' Wednesday, is in the perfect position to create mild mayhem by careful misidentification.
Well, you've won this round, Wednesday, and considering that you will be around long after I have shuffled (kicking and screaming) off this mortal coil, I gather you are pretty much predetermined to win the whole boxing match. But still, I have your number now sonny jim! I will be on the look out for your insipid prankstery, and when that time comes my friend, haha, well then.. I'll .. you.. *shakes fist with little conviction*
I'll see you next week, Wednesday. I'll bring the crackers, you bring the timeline.
...
I forgot what day it was today. Seemed to think I had already done Wednesday. Had the feeling Wednesday had already done its thing. Felt that I'd been "Wednesday'd". But alas, no. For Wednesday had just started. But it was a sneaky Wednesday. Unlike most of it's anscestors before it, today it jumped up and in a loud and distinct voice (with breath smelling slightly of gooseberry) stated "Hello Tobbë! I'm ... Thursday!". I should have realised then that something was amiss. Weekdays very rarely exclaim their intentions. It's more of a weekend thing. But not having the stomach to, nor really the knowledge of how to, I did not argue.
So merrily I went about my day (well, not my day, the day belongs to all, whether they want it or not) and thought no more about it. Upon hindsight, though, I realise that this Wednesday was (and at this hour of the night, still is) a foxy character. You see, his brothers and sisters would be hard pressed to get away with this ruse. Grumpy Monday and the strict Miss Tuesday are far too close to the wild and raucous Saturday and his regretful twin sister Sunday to manage the sting. Methodical Thursday and excitable Friday are already in anticipation mode for any type of shenanigans. But bored and crafty Mr Midweek, good ol' Wednesday, is in the perfect position to create mild mayhem by careful misidentification.
Well, you've won this round, Wednesday, and considering that you will be around long after I have shuffled (kicking and screaming) off this mortal coil, I gather you are pretty much predetermined to win the whole boxing match. But still, I have your number now sonny jim! I will be on the look out for your insipid prankstery, and when that time comes my friend, haha, well then.. I'll .. you.. *shakes fist with little conviction*
I'll see you next week, Wednesday. I'll bring the crackers, you bring the timeline.
posted by Tobbë | 10:00 PM
2 Comments:
you make me look at the week in a whole new light. (may not be a good thing) really enjoying the read.(may start one myself)i remember the hole in the cupboard. where did we think we were going to escape to? i loved how the coffee table was saved from fire because the washing protected it!!
Ahh laundry. Our very own furniture protectorate. I will never forget mother's face when she saw that the pile of laundry was still there. She saw that as a great injustice that after a fire she still had to do the washing.
I do hope you start one of these bloggy type thingamagigs too. I shall be an avid reader.
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