Oh Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday. Whatever will I do with you?

Wednesday, I want to love you because you symbolize the middle of the work week which means that it’s almost the weekend. I want to love you because your funny little nickname, Hump Day, makes me giggle. And I want to love you because you’re fun to pronounce. (Or maybe that’s just because my pronunciations are skewed thanks to years of speech therapy?)

But you know what, Wednesday? Sometimes you really are full of woe.

Case in point:
I stop by the post office each day on my way home from the office hoping to have a letter or a card or a parcel from a friend. Most days, I am disappointed and only get bills or name-addressed junk mail. But on Wednesdays, the box only ever contains a grocery store flyer from a town I never go to because it’s in a different direction than where I work, and therefore shop. But I get to be sad that there is a sale on blueberries that I can’t get because the added trip would cost more in fuel than the savings on the berries.

Case in point:
Wednesday is the day that the bill collectors call for the person who used to own my home telephone number; which means that I return home from work to a beeping answering machine and allow myself a moment’s excitement that someone has called for me. But instead I just have several machine-voiced auto messages for some guy I don’t even know.

But, I know this isn’t your fault. And I know that originally, you were not the day of woe but were rather the day of loving and giving. So I’m going to give you a break.

After all, Wednesday is also the day that the housekeeper comes.

And Wednesday is the half-way point in the week’s fresh grocery supply which means I can eat those last few strawberries without guilt because I know I’ll re-stock in two days’ time!

And this Wednesday was a day that I had a nice chat with a friend in Scotland who helped to remind me that I’m not totally screwing with my big life changes but am, in fact, doing the right thing. (Thanks for that! Having the reassurance of a friend always helps!)

[Oh, and if you wondered, I was born on a Thursday and as we know, Thursday’s child has far to go. I think what that means in my case is that I have to travel 6,000 miles to find home. Yep, that’s my interpretation at least.]