"I could never get the hang of Thursdays," gripes one of the main characters of Douglas Adams's Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Surprising though this may be, I've never had my house or planet levelled by bureaucrats, my best friend isn't an alien, and I don't always know where my towel is, because sometimes I hide things from myself for reasons that elude me. I think maybe I do it to keep my life interesting.
Mr. Dent and I agree resoundingly on the subject of Thursdays, though. There's probably some rational reason for their frequently frustrating, irritating, depressing, or just plain weird nature; four days into a five-day week, you're tired enough to err more often and for things to get to you more easily, but one more weekday remains between you and the light at the end of the tunnel.*
That's all fine and good. Rationality, yay! Rationality, I maintain, doesn't really begin to explain them, though. Just as some people need God to reconcile themselves with the world, I need to believe that Thursdays are the world's way of telling people to take a long rock off a short pier. Planning on having a productive and satisfying day on which you do not unwittingly dry your private parts with a large spider or discover that one of your customers apparently doesn't exist? Ha-ha, good luck, sucker! It's THURSDAY.
What purpose do they serve, otherwise? Mondays, widely held to stink worse than dead fish, begin the week and, well, everything has to begin somewhere. Tuesdays are okay - not hugely purposeful, but benign enough. Wednesday is Hump Day, when, cresting the toilsome hill of the work week, you catch a glimpse of the end and realize that you're halfway there! And Friday...
...well, Friday's pretty much hell for me because the newspaper I work for comes out so thick with ads that it's like delivering a hundred and thirty phone books, or carrying around a couple of five-year-olds. However, it is, at least, the last day of the week, traditionally at least. Finish whatever you get paid to do, go home, put your feet up, chill.
But Thursdays, man...why are Thursdays? Like an unexpected big ol' cow patty smack in the midst of the path down the hill, they're just there to trip you up on the way to Friday.
I vote we revoke them. Who'd like to start a petition?
* As always, if the light shows itself too early, it's probably a train, so good Thursdays arouse my deepest suspicions.
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