Thursdays are the worst day of the week for me.
Thursdays make me suspect that I do not actually move forward in time, like the rest of creation does, but rather hangs suspended in a sort of eerie stasis.
I really, really don't like them.
By Thursday, I sort of feel like an egg yolk that broke while it was leaving the shell, and is now leaking its yellowy essence everywhere.
The kids want to go play with the neighbor kids before they finish history? Sure, whatever.
They want to go traipsing through the hedgerows with no shoes on? Sure, whatever.
Someone wants brinner? Sure, whatever.
The dog is licking the baby's face, giving him the first bath he's had in three days? Sure, whatever.
Thought I'd share that, since I missed posting yesterday, due to an overload of fresh air and physical labor.
I'll just blame it on Thursday.