By Anita Garner
Thursday’s my favorite day of the week. A Thursday’s as good as a Friday, in terms of anticipation, and anticipation is the key. Looking forward to something is often more fun than the “something” when it actually arrives. The one thing we can decide all by ourselves is what and how much we’re anticipating.
On Thursday, whether or not there are weekend plans, I look forward to the weekend. This was true even when I worked weekends, and it’s true today when I am more or less in charge of my own work schedule. There’s no accounting for this little fizz of joy that bubbles up around afternoon coffee time on a Thursday. It’s the feeling that something good might happen.
When I was a kid and a brand new member of the workforce, I bought the “hump day” reasoning. Everyone talked about how great Wednesday would be, because it’s the halfway point in the week. But that didn’t last long. It never did carry the anticipation of a Thursday.
On the opposite side of this falls the least favorite day of the week. Sunday seems to be the letdown point for lots of us. Some say it goes back to childhood when, by Sunday afternoon, fun was done and a new school week loomed.
I’m thinking maybe it’s the letdown from all that Thursday anticipation. But I’m not giving up the Thursday feeling just to alleviate the Sunday afternoon blues. Anticipation is still the only part of the week I can control.
The Sunday thing is really weird. As you pointed out, it doesn’t matter if you have a M-F job or not, Sundays are always a bit of a letdown. Like the day after Christmas even though you’ve got all those wonderful toys.
I know what you mean about certain days of the week and that … anticipation thing. Problem for me was, my weekly anticipation day was, in fact, a Friday – but not for the same reasons as everyone else. I was always ready for the weekend to arrive, but by the end of that last English class on Friday afternoon, I often sweated out that Walter the Geek, parked in the first row, just in front of our teacher’s desk, might end up howling out just nano seconds after that last bell rang –“Ohhh, Oooo … MRS. GOGGIN, YOU FORGOT TO ASSIGN US HOMEWORK!”
Damn, we almost made a clean getaway.
I don’t know if it was legitmate anticipation, or just frustration, but I always anticipated how long it was gonna be before someone, ANYONE handed Walter a giant fruit pie to suck on. Sometime before 3:00 o’clock would have work for us. At least it would have kept his mouth busy ’til we got out of Dodge. And Walter just loooved his fruit pies.
Weekend homework? Indeed. Way to kill a weekend, Walter.