T.G.I.M.

Monday isn't so badSome people hate Monday, but I think Sunday is the most despicable day. All the other days of the week have some kind of positive quality about them, but Sunday is just wrong. Let me count the ways.

On Sunday, you know the end is near. No matter how many hours might be left in the day, deep down you know the weekend is over. Sure, you can pretend it's a sunny day and go out and do stuff like there's no tomorrow, but there is a tomorrow, and it's nipping at your heels like a Chihuahua. Sunday and Autumn have a lot in common, because both are at the end of something else.

A lot of places are closed on Sunday. A lot of places are open, too, but it doesn't matter because they aren't the sorts of places you'd want to be on a Sunday. They're crowded, and all the people are either staggering around or shoving others out of the way. The places that are closed aren't very crowded, but their entryways are so clogged up with tumbleweeds that you couldn't get in even if you wanted to.

Sunday evening is when all the people who've been somewhere else for the weekend have to come back. Everyone comes back at the same time, and they don't like it when you try to merge onto the highway they're using. A lot of them have sunburns, so they're in a hurry to get home before their skin starts peeling off. Those who have boat payments are the most dangerous, because on Sunday evening boat payments are much higher than they were on Friday.

Compared to Sunday, Monday is a good day. It may be routine—mundane, even—but at least it's honest. Monday can be brutal, but it's an honest brutality; it isn't full of false promises, or fake brutality. That's more than I can say for Sunday.

 

2 comments:

  1. I'm trying to decide whether to quote entire passages of this piece that I find hilarious, or merely call it all "very funny." I can't resist mentioning certain lines. The funny starts well before we learn that Sunday and Autumn have a lot in common, but that line kicks things into high gear. Then we learn that "a lot of places are open, too ... but they aren't the sorts of places you'd want to be on a Sunday." This is rich, indeed! The details that follow that statement are delightful. Then we come to a terrific reason for never driving on a Sunday: everyone comes back at the same time, rushing to make their boat payments. This section is almost painfully funny! And the final clencher, that at least Monday offers an "honest brutality," is priceless!

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  2. I, too, feel the pain. Perhaps not with quite the same acuity, but it still hurts.

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