the days of the week (as told by emma)

i don't know if you guys know this, but, i watch Seinfeld... a lot. and by a lot i mean every single day. it's my life goal to be apart of some sort of ultimate trivia game with Seinfeld as the main category of question. do i think i would win it all? i don't wanna be too cocky and say "obviously," but i know i'd AT LEAST be one of the top 3 finalists. that's for damn sure. anyway, in one episode entitled "The Sniffing Accountant," kramer, newman and jerry are staking someone out in a car and have a candid conversation about the days of the week. it goes a little something like this:

Kramer: What's today?

Newman: It's Thursday.

Kramer: Really? Feels like Tuesday.

Newman: Tuesday has no feel. Monday has a feel, Friday has a feel, Sunday has a feel....

Kramer: I feel Tuesday and Wednesday...

to me, every day of every week has a feel and here's what they are:

monday: psh, please. monday's feel is like getting out of bed after the best vacation of your life - and this happens every single monday. it's a feel that repeats itself over and over and over again, sort of like "groundhog day" but without bill murray and i am andie macdowell. after tossing and turning all night, having dreams about completely ridiculous things involving your job that probably aren't of that much importance (i.e. writing an email back to that one unimportant person, checking your team's mailbox or taking a 5-minute too long lunch break), you have to drag yourself out of bed to start a fresh week. you want to dress like it's friday, but you know technically you can't, so the first outfit of the week is usually the worst because you're tired, lazy and bitter. everyone at work talks about their weekends, but you're in such different stages of life than them that you find it hard to really relate to stories of pooping toddlers or big costco runs. you want to talk about that hilarious thing your friend did when she was way too buzzed on tequila, but you opt for saying you "slept in a lot" instead. monday drags. your lunch sucks. responding to 100 emails sucks. the peach you brought for a snack wasn't ripe enough yet  and tastes like shit and all you can think is "it's SUCH  a monday." you make your way home at the end of the day, still bitter and wiped out, and you wait for tuesday.

tuesday: the day after monday. it's not that much better. you probably have a few more meetings to attend since everyone took monday to get their shit together and are now ready to convene. even though it's the day after monday, you know you're still so far away from the weekend and you only have 3 more days to complete that power point your boss needs. you decide you won't be able to make it through the week unless you plan a happy hour tomorrow night with your friends. yes, a hump day treat. that's just what the doctor orders to make sure you're alive and well come friday. you spend the better half of your afternoon texting and emailing friends to where and when to meet the next night, neglecting your real life work that needs to be done. you take an hour of your day to sit there and create an errand list for yourself. when that feeling of it only being tuesday creeps back in, you comfort yourself with thoughts of laughter and friends in the near future and maybe a dinner recipe you'll try tonight. deep breaths.

wednesday: YES! it's the middle of the week - praise the gods of daily weeks and things. only TWO MORE DAYS until the weekend. this week has FLOWN. wait - shit. now i only have two days until that thing is due to my boss. UGH. you focus on how you'll be having some sort of social life in 8 hours and try to put your schnoz to the grindstone. around midday, you decide a coke is a necessity if you're going to get this stuff done and be alive for your after-work fun. "i'm gonna be drinking hundreds of calories worth of alcohol in a few hours. what's the difference?" you rationalize with yourself. plus, you need that extra kick to catapult you to 530pm. what happens between walking to the break room and being back at your desk is a whirlwind. through a hurricane of rationalizing, you've ended up back in your cube with a coke AND a snickers bar. you hate yourself, but then again, you don't stop yourself. hump day treat, anyone? "this is my cheat day," you decide. you're an idiot.

thursday: hungover from the night before and being reminded for about the 100th time that you are no longer a college student who can rebound from binge drinking quicker than you can say "SHOTS!", you suffer in silence at your cube. if you have a cool boss, maybe you can let him/her know WHY you feel like someone hit you in the head with a hammer and slapped your mouth numb. if your boss is a tightwad or you have no sort of relationship with them in that regard, best keep to yourself, eat a bagel and drink water all day long. just as you think it's okay because at least you don't have anything pressing to do today, you realize that stupid fucking thing is due tomorrow. shit. guess what? you end up staying late. on a thursday. a thursday which always seems to feel like a friday no matter what (i think that starts happening in college and it doesn't break for the rest of your life). you run into a couple of problems with the project and have to ask coworkers for help, exposing your lack of work ethic that you're STILL working on this thing that's due in hours. you know they're probably raising eyebrows about you, but battle your anxiety. your mantra for the rest of the time you're there is FML and you go home with the small bit of happiness that tomorrow is, in fact, mother fucking friday.

friday: you feel lighter. the sky seems bluer. food tastes better. the world is chirping a sweet tune of friday glory. praise be to the heavens! TODAY IS TECHNICALLY THE WEEKEND IN JUST A SHORT 8 HOURS. you've waited all week for this. work seems silly. you're on your game at lunch (which, of course,  you dine out for). obviously, you sported one of your cuter tops just in celebration of your inevitable liberation. finally, at 5pm, you are done. you are free. you frolick through happy hour. you dance while you get ready for an evening out. you laugh at -

saturday: HUH? it's noon. when did i go to bed? where did friday go??? it was there and you were so happy and now it's gone. it's saturday already?! NOON on saturday?!? you need to run so many errands, but you also wanted to have lunch and hang at the pool and go shopping. where are you gonna get enough time. you try and rush through your errands, but your friends are MIA when you try to call them about pool plans. everything is delayed in your life and time is quickly ticking away until the sun sets at 9pm...

sunday: okay. fuck this. you're telling me saturday is gone now, too??? and suddenly it's the day before my next full week of work??? i call bullshit. i'm protesting by making a fatty breakfast, watching movies all day and being depressed that the more minutes that go by, the closer it is until bed time. why is that i wish all week for the time to fly and now i am wishing it would freeze?

here's the reality, folks. 7 days of a week = 1 day = saturday. when you break it down, you really only have saturday to feel 110% free with no duties, no nothing that has to be done before tomorrow for work, nada. it's depressing as hell, but at least we're all in it together?

i guess?

- emma

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