Every week I have the exact same thought: “I hate Tuesdays.”
No matter how many of them I go through, what great television shows are on, or however nicely I decide to treat myself, Tuesdays have always been a serious struggle for me.
Yes, I realize that this is the most middle-class white-girl problem of all middle-class white-girl problems. Yes, I realize that calendars and days of the week are completely arbitrary and man-made, especially for people who don’t ascribe to the forty hour work week. But it still bothers me. Over the years I’ve embraced my baseless hatred of the day called Tuesday and that’s all there is to it.
Tuesdays are like Mondays without the motivation to get out of bed and “start the week fresh.” They’re not lucky enough to be the middle of the week Wednesday or the almost end of the week Thursday or Friday; they’re just this torturous day stuck between and I have never been able to enjoy them for it.
“We waste so many days waiting for the weekend. So many nights wanting morning. Our lust for future comfort is the biggest thief of life.” – Joshua Glenn Clark
There are 24 hours or 1,440 minutes or 86,400 seconds in every one of my dreaded Tuesdays. I’ve slogged and whined my way through about 1,150 of them so far, and wasted 27,456 hours of my life in the process.
But there’s no use in being miserable about something I can’t change, no reason I should waste my time agonizing over it. Instead I should look for ways to make my Tuesdays better, brighter, happier. Why ruin a perfectly redeemable present by pining over my future? I could have the happiness I want to have now, if only I can learn to see past my hatred.
Maybe I’ll never love Tuesdays. We have a long history of antagonistic feelings towards one another that makes those feelings unlikely. But wouldn’t it be great to at least not hate one-seventh of my week? Wouldn’t it be great to wake up happy on a Tuesday morning?
I resolve to find out.