Thursdays were, once upon a time, my favorite day of the week. If a week could be described as a day, I think it would look like this: Mondays are the beginning of the day - sometimes good, sometimes bad, and they set the tune for the rest of it. Tuesdays have always been Meh, that in-between time of mid-morning. Wednesdays were too busy - coming back to school/work after a lunch break and there's so much to do; afternoon. Thursdays were the beginning of the end - the evening of the week. Friday is Midnight - not very novel by itself but combined with the right catalyst - a great deal of fun. Saturday is the wee hours of the morning - time to sleep, or on rare occasions, go none-stop and have a blast.
You may notice that Sunday isn't in there. (If you didn't, learn to be observant. ;)) That's because Sunday has always felt like it's not part of the week. It's its own thing. Sundays make up their own year, a year of church and escape from work and school and, most importantly, the world.
I slept eleven hours last night. Why? I've no clue. Maybe I'm sick and my body is trying to fight it off but I don't know that I'm sick yet. . . . . Hmmm. Maybe, if it's something minor, I won't ever actually feel sick because of all the extra sleep.
I started writing this blog yesterday, in case you were wondering. People interupted me. :)
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