Everybody Talks About It But ...

Tuesday before last they were predicting a Thursday--
My club meeting night.
But when I awoke in the morning
It was dull, gray, depressing, dreary,
Blue Monday.  
I was almost mad enough to complain
But normally wouldn't bother,
Except I needed something to write about
And I knew somebody who worked there
So I went.  

The forecaster tried to explain it with a map:
"We were expecting this area of Wednesday/Thursday here
 To stabilize and spread
 But a long lazy Sunday afternoon
 That had been quietly hanging there for three days
 Finally broke up and flowed west
 So we got
 Monday."

I asked if it was true the days used to be more settled.
They say that years ago they went
Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Saturday
Regular as clockwork.
You could almost set your watch by 'em.
He'd heard that too,
But that was before they kept records
So he really didn't know.  

I told him my father's story
About how when he was little
They once had a month straight
Of Monday.
He'd heard of that:
"It was really bad--
 A month of Monday morning blahs
 And a water shortage from all that Monday washday laundry
 And with no Fridays, nobody was getting their paychecks.
 They finally had to declare an emergency and martial law
     and everything
 And when the churches tried to organize prayers for relief--
 No Sundays.  
 Churches like having lots of Sundays."

Interesting conversation,
But finally time to go.
"Any Thursdays coming up?
 That's my club meeting
 And we haven't had one for quite a while."

"Sorry, but no.  
 No Thursdays in sight."

But sure enough,
You guessed it.
For the next three days,
Thursday, 
Thursday, 
Thursday. 


                                   Thomas G. Digby
                                   written 0035 hr  2/26/77
                                   entered 0005 hr  2/09/92
                                   formatting 12:40 12/22/2001