I’d rather eat the seafood gumbo our school offered last week than be told by my mom to get up on Monday mornings. I’m not even sure how to describe the oppressive misery of getting out from Sunday night’s cocoon and entering a week full of short-answer questions, finding theta and learning about how our forefathers schemed harder in Philadelphia than French Montana at a video shoot– but it sucks. Mondays mean no hot water, no sunshine and porridge for every meal. But count your blessings- Mondays are better than Tuesdays.
Ah Tuesday, the ultimate tease. You think it’s okay because at least you beat Monday right? Wrong. In reality, you’re not even halfway through the week. It’s too early to make plans for the weekend. At least on Monday you could talk about the crazy things that happened last Saturday, but by the time Tuesday rolls around those things are as old as the mixtape in Petey’s ford. No motivation. Gray skies. School.
Okay Wednesday– I see you, you neutral son of a gun. There’s not much to say about hump day, besides the fact that it’s great to get it over with. Once you make it through Wednesday, consider yourself in the homestretch. Wednesdays mean a glimmer of sunshine, a spring in your step, and overall a decent day.
Thursday. Not quite the king, but a great day to say the least. In the back of your head you know that tomorrow is Friday, and this trumps any chafe that would normally seem like the end of the world (aka a lab experiment in Barone’s room). Thursday means great NBC television, a nice filet mignon, whispers of some random sophomore’s parents leaving for the weekend, and a minty clean room (I hope your cleaning lady comes on Thursdays too- Beatrice, you’re a doll).
FRIDAY! I’d hyperlink this to Rebecca Black, buuuut then again I don’t want to be shunned from society. When you wake up on Friday expect it to be 60 degrees minimum. Little bluebirds get you dressed as the smell of Belgian waffles takes over the crib. You start heading towards the kitchen but suddenly a voice stops you…”Where are you going silly?!” It’s Kate Upton. “It’s Friday, remember? You get to eat breakfast in bed!”
“By golly Kate you’re right!” I say, hitting my forehead with a palm. “I am silly!”
After being hand-fed breakfast by Miss Upton, it’s out the door and-
“Gogo?” GOGO?”
That voice this early can only mean one thing.
“Wake up sweetie its 6:30…time for a big day of learning!”
f*** Mondays-…can’t a kid finish his dream?
