A Non-Hockey Interlude: The Peerless' Guide to the Days of the Week

What are the best and worst days of the week, and all the days in-between?  Well, glad you asked.  Your old pal Uncle Peerless has the answer...

Monday… Lots of folks think this is the worst day of the week, but look, you know what you are getting here.  Yeah, yeah.  First day after the weekend, back to work, pay the mortgage.  But it is what it is, and you know it’s coming.  Besides, you still have that minty aftertaste of the weekend that just passed.

Tuesday… Hands down, this is the worst day of the week.  That minty aftertaste of the weekend has been replaced by the foul stench of the Monday just concluded, and you didn’t get all the work done that backed up over the weekend anyway.  Plus, you can’t see the peaceful shore of the weekend ahead; it’s still over the horizon of…

Wednesday… “Hump Day.”  Better than Tuesday (or Monday, for that matter) because now the shore is in view.  You can detect the faint scent of barbecue and beer, hear the softest shouts at the ball park or hear the gentlest rustle of the leaves on the tree in the backyard.

Thursday… Things are looking up.  You can see the waves gently lapping at the weekend shore ahead.  You are starting to make plans, and they have nothing to do with answering e-mails, writing reports, or meeting with bosses. 

Friday… You’re almost there, but no, it’s not the best day of the week.  You still have some unfinished work to do before you go home for the weekend.  It hangs over you for half of your waking day; you try to rush so you can go to happy hour or just get home and get ready for…

Saturday… The best day of the week.  Work is a receding memory, and you don’t have any of the anxiety about next week.  You can sleep late, relax, get in a round of golf, play touch football, go to the movies, have a picnic.  The world is your oyster.

Sunday… Sure, you can sleep late, but there is that low rumble of thunder off on the horizon that signals a new work week starting tomorrow.  You can read the Sunday paper, have a dinner with family, watch football.  But by late afternoon, somewhere, deep in the recesses of your brain, a persistent voice is starting to warn you…don’t be late for the bus tomorrow, you have an important meeting and have e-mails to answer.  And it all starts anew.