rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Another Tuesday Survived

The moon laughed at the storm riding away, tattered remnants of cloud like rent garments blowing away from Orion, leaving him naked in the moon-bright sky. Winter's stars were given a few hours to sparkle, and then, as though creeping back when the moon at last settled below the horizon, the clouds returned to shroud each small light, one by one. All remains damp, and perhaps more rain will come, or maybe the sun will emerge long enough to dry things out. If the rain returns, then I will probably see again, as yesterday, the acorn woodpeckers gathered on the upwind side of the telephone pole. There were half a dozen of them yesterday afternoon. I've come to expect them every rainy day, patiently enduring the storm in the driest place to which they can cling. I have no idea where they nest, but they clearly prefer to be out and about in the daytime, even when all the other birds are conspicuously absent. I never tire of listening to their odd, scolding chuckles as they jockey for position on the pole. They have definitely become my favorite winter birds.

As yesterday was Tuesday, and it was observed by everyone of whom I am aware, it is clear that my desire to abolish the day is not widely shared. I begin to doubt that it will be possible to alter an institution of such long standing as the seven day week. People simply don't realize how much better of we would all be without Tuesday. It is difficult for me to simply ignore the day when everyone else continues to accept its existence. I tried all day to pretend that it was already Wednesday, but ultimately failed. The newspaper was dated Tuesday, the networks ran their usual Tuesday shows, and even Sluggo claimed that it was Tuesday when I hovered my cursor over the clock in the task bar. How can I succeed against such powerful opposition? But at least the wretched day is gone for another week, and I need not deal with it until then.
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