Tuesday, May 28, 2013
it can be argued that tuesday consistently ranks as the day of the week that i am most ill prepared; this is especially apparent during the summer months. during the summer, i forget how to dress for work. i live in swimsuits and sunglasses, sunblock and jean shorts. i don't wash my hair; i don't wear makeup and tan lines become the best fashion statement i could possibly wake. this makes a summer tuesday even less held together because i do not work on mondays.
monday is just a weekend extension; it turns sunday into saturday. on monday, i get to stay home and write. i get to swim and go to the gym. i get to see friends. all this makes tuesday worse. on tuesday mornings i still don't want to wake up, wear clothes, or wash my hair. i dont even brush my hair. i skip breakfast and pack a thermos of black coffee, and i find myself absently wandering in my brain, but far more in line with the conversational world around me. tuesday is better suited for ideas and fantasies, not logic and function. this makes my physical representation and mental representation extremely disparate, which makes three pm on a tuesday even stranger. even more stranger is today because i keep having these wonderful conversations, but i keep thinking that they would be far better in some other space: a room that wasn't made of glass and so cold, some place where i wouldn't have to wear tights and high heels and my hair wouldn't be wound up in some dirty bun. i would far prefer this talk and this thinking in some golden space; spaces where my weekend conversations occur. this also creates a great disparity. in line with these reveries, i get my best thinking for creative writing on tuesday, but this cold room and the stiff atmosphere of work makes the writing more difficult. this is because when i am in such a cold, serious place, i have to have a plan of work. with a plan of work, i can complete any writing task because i've already devoured the characters and language and function. but on tuesday, when reverie and action must become synonymous, it is impossible to feel that electric continuation from fantasy to thought to writing. i need that golden room of conversation here too.
i know i've never been made for standard lines. and by wednesday, i am at the welding shop, so there is no need for formalities, which may indeed turn thursday into tuesday, leaving all the room for creative action on friday to monday, but that's still more than not.
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