Another short vignette from a few years ago that I thought you all might enjoy.

“God, today fucking sucks,” Walter said, collapsing into his chair at the cafeteria table like the fall of empires.

Molly sat silently for a moment, expecting Walter to elaborate.  Clearly, he wanted to say more.  You could see it in his face.  And though she was curious, she would not give him the satisfaction of asking why.

“Why?” she finally said, despite herself.

“It’s Tuesday, Molly,” Walter replied, as though the answer were self-evident.

Molly pondered this for a moment, probing the statement’s depths and finding them unfathomable.

“Okay, I’ll bite.  Is it this particular Tuesday that sucks, or Tuesdays in general?” she asked.

“Tuesday,” Walter said, with the air of someone about to impart great wisdom, “is the worst day of the week.”

“That seems…well, that just doesn’t make any sense,” Molly said, frowning.

“It’s quite simple,” Walter replied, wagging a finger at her.  “Mondays, for all of their horror and frustration, are really not to be feared.  Most folks are still too hung over from the weekend to really notice Monday is even happening.  We have the afterglow of the weekend to keep us warm on a dreary Monday.”

“I’m not entirely sure I agree with that, but I’ll give it to you for the sake of argument,” Molly said doubtfully.  “What about Wednesday?”

“Wednesday is New Comic Day,” Walter replied bluntly, as though no one could possibly not know that.  “Thursday, of course, is the day before Friday.  There’s anticipation.  There’s light at the end of the tunnel.  There’s hope.”

“And Friday, of course, is Friday,” Molly finished for him.

“Of course,” Walter said.  “Which leaves only Tuesday, that poor, misbegotten naïf with nothing to recommend it.  Think of it.  Every other day has at least something happening.  Tuesday is the week’s equivalent of an hour spent in a doctor’s waiting room.”

Molly considered Walter’s assertion.  “I still maintain Monday is pretty horrible,” she said tentatively.

“Oh, I’m so sick of everyone going on about Monday!” Walter cried, rising to his feet and startling people around them.  Molly scrabbled at his arm, trying to drag him back down into his chair and mentally willing everyone in the cafeteria to look the other way.  Walter returned to his seat without appearing to notice.  “Monday is a much-maligned day, I tell you, a day with much to be joyful about!  Why, it gives you the opportunity to reconnect with comrades, to discuss the events of the weekend and dissect them with excruciating detail among friends and confidants.  Monday is the chance to strut back into your place of work or what-have-you and proclaim, loudly, ‘I got laid on Saturday, even with this haircut!’  Monday is the weekend’s not-quite-sober victory lap.”

Molly’s brow furrowed, her left eyebrow arching in barely-sustained suspension of disbelief.  “Okay, so let’s say Tuesdays are as bad as you say,” she began.  “For the sake of argument, we’ll go with that.  If your big problem with Tuesday is that it’s got nothing to it, why not give Tuesday some deeper personal meaning?  Why does it have to be the ennui of the work week?”

Walter gave Molly a look of mixed sadness and condescension.  “Molly, my dear, dear Molly, it does not work that way,” he said pityingly.  “One cannot simply ascribe any old meaning to a day and expect it to stick.  Reality is not so easily convinced.

“Let us say I were to, as you put it, ‘give Tuesday a deeper personal meaning.’  What then?  Will everyone else take up the change?  Will Tuesday become a personal day for the whole world?  And if it does, how do we benefit?  No, Tuesday must remain as it is, unloved and unfulfilling.  It provides the context for the rest of the week, and nothing more.”  He sighed as a Byronic poet might, gazing off longingly into the middle distance.  Or possibly he was staring at the pudding, Molly couldn’t be sure.

“Whatever,” Molly replied, giving up on the conversation and gathering her empty lunch things onto her tray.  “I’m off for Physics.  You coming?”

“What’s the point?” Walter asked somberly.  “It’s Tuesday.”

“Well, we’ve got that test today…” Molly said.

“Oh, right,” Walter said, his eyes suddenly refocusing.  “Off we go, then.”

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