I find it incredible I’ve made it this far and not answered such a question. Maybe I have. I have a terrible memory. I store all my answers in a huge archive deep underground. I would send my lackey Julius down there to go and have a look-see to see if I have answered this question before, but I did that a few months ago and I haven’t seen him since. Hmm. Ah, well. All things end. Anywho…
I don’t see the point in favourite days of the week but I’ll forgive it because it’s what I would call an inadvertent favourite. I hate favourites, as you all know I find them highly illogical. But an inadvertent favourite is okay. We don’t set out to have a favourite day of the week. People don’t say, “Tuesday! I’ll pick Tuesday as my favourite day!” like they would do with, say, a pair of shoes. If you have a favourite pair of shoes, why do you own fifty pairs of shoes? But people do have favourite days of the week based on experience. If somebody asked me what my favourite day of the week was, I’d say, “Don’t have one”. But there is a day I like more than any other day. So I must have a favourite. Intriguing, huh? No? Oh.
Nobody likes Mondays. Tuesdays are Monday’s hangover. You still feel a bit groggy yet you still harbour some rationality. Wednesday’s are ethereal. You don’t feel anything. You don’t feel yourself. Metaphorically. Ahem. Your head is in the clouds. It’s fun up here. Thursdays are a pre-emptive hangover. You spend the entire day waiting for Friday. And that makes the day drag. And boring. And useless. And a tad crazy, because Tuesday’s rationality has vanished, usually along with your pants. Friday. You’re like a child and can’t get any work done. Saturday. What a lovely day. Sunday is Church day. And yet another pre-emptive hangover. The night before the doom of Monday.
So I’ll say Saturday. What a lovely, lovely day. It’s calm. There’s a beautiful smell in the air. A wonderful atmosphere. A relaxation after a hard week. No work tomorrow except furious repentance. The sport is on. Family around to annoy you. Cleaning. Love cleaning. Days outside. Ah. Bliss. Bliss before the misery. A wonderful, perfect day for all.
Except for Julius. He went missing on a Saturday. Should I call someone about that? Nah. He’ll be fine. He has plenty of paper to eat…
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Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:
The Indelible Life of Me
The Shanty Continuum
Hark Around The Words