Again another week is about to end. Just one more day until Friday. Time feels like it’s suspended. For some reason it feels like De Ja Vue. It’s raining again. The chill of the air comes with the tingling droplets of water lightly dancing upon the skin. I swear this occurred exactly one week ago… on a Thursday and one year ago on that date… on a Wednesday. I remember because of the events that ensued. That story is for another day but this is about Thursdays.

It is often forgotten. Who remembers what happens randomly in the middle of the week? Yet we label it throwback or thirsty. Who really makes a reference to the throwback that occurred on that day? The songs written about Thursday are forgotten too; unlike “Friday I’m in Love” or “This Friday Night.” Do you really remember those songs written about Thursday? There are quite a few but I can’t hum the tune to any.

Why is it a lonely Friday night feels worse than a lonely Thursday? My theory is Thursday is a better day. There is still hope on Thursdays. You still have something to look forward to on Thursday. Without plans, Friday is hopeless. On Thursday, there is still productivity with a little mystery. What happens on Thursday nights? Better than what happens Sunday nights, when it is no longer the weekend.

I argue that Thursday is a beginning. Don’t get me started on Monday. While Monday is a new beginning, no one appreciates it as such. Everyone caffeinates in order to forget and jet set. Since Sunday is the weekend the calendar should begin with Monday, but it doesn’t. Wednesday is not really the middle of the week. It is Thursday. How is Thursday the beginning yet also the middle and almost the end? The days are arbitrary and what you make them.

An ode to Thursday must now mention Thursday’s brother. Her brother Tuesday is forgotten almost as frequently. They are fraternal twins. I appreciate the beauty of Thursday. Tuesday is just as handsome.

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