When I was a kid I used to get up extremely early on Saturday mornings. Between 5:30 and 6:30. I would watch Davey and Goliath (when ever I catch it now, I force my wife watch it) and then I would have to wade through some really bad shit like Captain Kangaroo to get to the three or four shows that I waited with great anticipation to watch every week. Then at about 11:30 or 12:00 it was time to go outside or over to a friends house play. This was my program for many years.
Saturday has always been my favorite day of the week for one reason or another. For a couple of years in there I didn't get up until three or four pm on Saturdays. I can't recall the reason why I would sleep so late on a Saturday but I'm sure there is an explanation.
Today I usually get up around 5:30 or 6:00 am because I have a tendency to go to sleep early on Friday nights usually because of my work schedule.
I generally hate Sundays. I find them depressing. Always have, always will. The only exception to this rule is the 22 weeks of football season. Still, with my work schedule I get a constant nagging reminder in the back of my head that I have to be at work Sunday nights at 10:00 pm. With this said I still prefer football to be played on Sunday.
I don't mind Mondays at all because for me Mondays are Tuesdays. I hate when radio stations complain about Mondays. Is my life and my job so bad that I can't wait for the weekend? What's going to happen next time when I look up at the clock and I'm 50?
Tuesday and Thursday are essentially God's interpretation of Ford's interchangable parts or vice versa. If you don't believe me check any Hebrew School calendar. I don't mind either of these days of the week. Once a year on a Thursday in November I get to watch a parade, stuff my face and watch the Cowboys and then the Lions, and now thanks to NFL network a third game.
Wednesday is a great day. I spend most Wednesdays fantasizing about hitting the powerball. The current Jackpot is almost 200 million dollars. The only minute of the day that sucks is 10:59 pm, cause that's when I realize I didn't win. I'm usually over it by 11:01 because I realize that the Saturday drawing is only three days away. Plenty of time to start the dream process all over again.
That brings us to Friday. By Friday I'm fringin exhausted. I get home from work on Fridays at about 3:30 am and my weekend begins. Allyson is usually wiped out by Friday as well. A lot of time we go out to dinner on Friday night and sometimes we go to a movie or out for drinks or something.
Somewhere in between Saturday and Friday, I also manage to work, write , spend time with the love of my life, interact with people, watch TV, listen to music, and dream. I also manage to sleep sometimes a lot, sometimes not much at all. This is pretty much the pattern of my life. I do this roughly 52 times a year.
3 comments:
You know how I feel about Monday's, Captain. A Monday is a Monday.
My entire interpretation of days of the week has been severly skewed since I went back to school. I have class Monday through Thursday after work, usually getting out around 9:30. To say I'm exhausted on Friday is the understatement of the year. Sadly, about a quarter the way into the semester, that exhaustion stretches through the weekend, into the next week, and, like a snake eating its tail, becomes the endless circle of work, school, study, and sleep that is my life 2/3rds of the year.
Was Brett with us the first time we got to hear you do that? That "Monday is a Monday" shit was so funny.
I know what you mean about the snake thing. When I'm very busy with painting and because my sleep schedule is so fucked as it is, someday's I wind up painting twice before I go to sleep. The best way for me to cope with my life on days like that is to point a wand at myself and say "ridiculous".
I can't remember when I first said that, Cork. I thought it was in a hebrew school carpool of some sort, so I don't think Brett could have been there.
Working Sunday is teh suck, as the Birdman rightly points out. Unless you were working the solo Sunday shift at Roy's, in which case you could graft a cool $100-$200 straight out of the register and no one would be the wiser, since it was the swing-shift/Sunday manager who taught you how to graft money out of the register in the first place.
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