This near-daily business of accentuating, let’s say, the positive, started thusly, on Facebook.
04/23/14
Monday and Wednesday go walking into a bar; as per usual, Monday is in everybody’s business in no time, annoying the hell out of everyone there, while Wednesday is a lot more laid-back, getting even more so the longer he’s around. Both days discover, at the same time, that they haven’t got a dime on them to pay for drinks. Wednesday shrugs while Monday demands one on the house, cuz he’s Monday, dammit; before it’s all over, even the bartender has wailed on Monday a few times before they’ve dumped him in a heap in the alley out back.
And before it’s all over, Thursday, a purty thang who’s just wandered in, is buying Wednesday his drinks, and he’s whispering naughty Hump Day things in her ear. They end up leaving together, of course, with sad Monday now completely forgotten. Then, quite a few hours later, Thursday invites over her hot, hot friend, Friday, and oh how a weekend of fun ensues!
The takeaway from this story: Today is Wednesday, people. Wednesday.
04/22/14
It is Tuesday. And there is not a damn thing the previous Monday can do about it now.
04/21/14
It is Monday. Apparently, in some cultures, that is a joyous thing.
04/19/14
Rain has settled back in, computer acting going-to-shop-on-Monday wonky, and pet issues, several uncontained stinky pet issues, bleah.
But the morning coffee was good. Oh, the coffee was good.
04/18/14
It is Friday, and that would certainly be enough.
But: The drive-thru Starbucks lady told me the woman in the car ahead of me, upon walking out her door this morning, had a bird poop on her head. Right there on her head. First thing. On her head. And this did not happen to me. It did not. Happen. To me.
Also: Zevon’s “Ain’t That Pretty at All.” Loud, and in traffic. If that don’t fix ya, at least for the moment, then you, friend, is just too damn broken.
04/17/14
It is Thursday, and the local weather charlatans, routinely whipping themselves into a frenzy over anything above a 5-degree change in temperature either way, said yesterday: Freeze! Coming! Surely! Could be. Frost, at least. Chance of it. Maybe. Might.
But the freeze did not happen, nor the frost, and the plants (many of my own I either covered or moved into sheds and storage rooms last evening, all for naught) did not die, you chilly doomsayers, you.
The plants did not die.
04/16/14
It is Wednesday, and spring here in eastern N.C. once again abruptly forgot its marching orders in the night, collapsing this morning in a small heap of still-winter. But the sun is back, that lovely sun. The sun, the sun, the sun.
04/15/14
It is Tuesday, a very gray Tuesday of hammering rains and numerous early morning pet issues as concerns the containment of once-consumed food and its unacceptable projection/placement. Yet the new Hold Steady album, people. The new Hold Steady album is permeated with just enough brilliance to feel like testimony.
Testify, Craig. Testify.
04/14/14
It is Monday, but I am not having dental surgery.
04/11/14
It is Friday. That, my friends, is affirmation enough.
04/10/14
It is Thursday. There are no war planes strafing the building nor is there any evidence of assassin ninjas scaling the outside walls. The pollen has yet to cover the car so that I cannot find it. And only one of the six pets had an in-house accident this morning before I had determined, in sleep blindness, which kitchen appliance was actually the coffee maker. All in all, a pretty good day.
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