Who Are The Days Of The Week?



Monday is the grouchy old man that is always squinting and telling you to speak up. Monday has ragged hair that he tried to comb, but you can still see the sleep sticking to it. You can imagine him tossing and turning before his alarm goes off as he mashes a pillow over his face. Maybe that’s where his cowlick came from. Some days Monday tries to dress nicely. He is uncomfortable though, and longs for his bed. Other days Monday just wears his sweats, but they makes him sleepy. Monday spends the day snapping at people for asking him questions, or else sits grumpily in the corner, brooding.


Tuesday is the haggard business woman you see rushing to work. She’s wearing her suit but you can see where her tights are starting to run and her shoes are worn thin. Tuesday has a frantic but resigned look in her eyes, a look that knows it’s only the second day of the week, and is already desperate for the day to be over. Tuesday is much more congenial than Monday. She can lose herself in her work, but she yawns more than the others (except Monday), and leaves work early.


Wednesday is the champion. Wednesday is the athlete waving the trophy; the man smiling at his acceptance speech; the woman who just got a raise. Wednesday is relief. Only two more days. Wednesday wears his comfy jeans, the routine settling back on him. His eyes are brighter and he smiles easier. Wednesday starts to make plans with his friends, but only vague plans, because solid plans would make the next two days longer.


Thursday is the rushed mother. She is harried, trying to fit everything and everyone in her schedule, make last minute plans, and still be polite. Thursday tries not to yell or lose her temper. Tomorrow is Friday, she repeats to herself. She firms up plans and looks forward to seeing friends without the hassle of children. Thursday comes and goes quickly.


Friday is the boy with almost too-long hair, the cliche boy with a guitar in one hand, a joint in the other. He smiles with ease, and pats everyone on the back. He stares out the window during classes or meetings. He gives a secret smile to the friend he’s hanging out with after school. Friday has the “I don’t care” vibe mastered. He half-asses projects, but no one cares, because everyone does the same. Then Friday has an intoxicated, wild night, full of laughing and screaming and deep talks.


Saturday is lazy. He is the middle aged man who wakes up at nine instead of six. Saturday drinks his coffee and eats his cereal without being rushed. He stays in his bathrobe until noon, until he puts on dirty jeans and putters around on some minor task. Saturday is quiet and laid-back. Saturday watches movies with the family, and stays up later than usual. He gets all his work done and takes the rest of the day slow.


Sunday is the teenage girl who sleeps until noon, and then unwillingly realizes the amount of homework she put off when hanging out with Friday. She struggles through that, before laying around and texting. She takes a long shower and does her hair, trying to fill the time until seeing Monday. She complains to her friends about going back to school, but secretly likes it a little. Her routine is comforting, and she misses seeing so-and-so who she has a crush on. Sunday sleeps earlier and wakes up as Monday.

image – Joel Lanman

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