Mandy B. Fernandez is a writer living in Pensacola, Florida with her husband and two children. She has a B.A. in English with a minor in Technical Writing and is pursuing an M.A. in Communications at UWF. She writes creatively and professionally on topics such as business, education, creative arts, health, family life, parenting and natural foods. In addition she loves sharing humorous stories, poetry and essays about womanhood and motherhood. She is working on her first children's book. You can learn more about her at www.writtenbymandy.com and see all of her published works at www.writtenbymandy.com/publishedwriting.

 

Days of the Week
By: Mandy B. Fernandez

The days of the week invoke certain feelings for me. If I wake up realizing Sunday is actually Monday, my mood changes drastically. This is how I talk to each day of the week, like I know each one personally:

Dear Monday,
You sneaky little b*tch! You just slipped right out from under me. Why do you whisper and tiptoe around acting like we don’t know you’re coming to ruin a perfectly good weekend? You make me manic. You’re not my fun day or my run day. You never have my coffee ready on time. Jimmy Buffet never serenades me like he promises so you better shower me with love, and not via raindrops. You know how rainy days and Mondays always get me down….

Dear Tuesday,
You may be the most overlooked day of the week but I think you are great. You have the best lunch and drink specials. You often have great pizza deals. A store is named after your honor with commercials by a famous actress. You’re multi-talented. Even Ruby needs your help in the kitchen again. You bring us one day closer to a day off. I salute you!

   

Dear Wednesday,
People call you hump day. I refer to you as decision day. We must decide if the week is half over or the week is still just beginning. I hate you for making me choose. Don’t I have enough to worry about? You belong to the Adams family, not me. And though I admire your sarcasm, I have enough of my own. People try to make you wordless but let’s face it, we are still talking. You give others ashes but me rashes. Please end before my dog humps my leg again.

   

Dear Thursday,
They are calling you the new “Friday” as you have been gaining popularity among the masses. Perhaps it is because heartless Wednesday will drag out for so long that we wake up confused that you are the final day of our workweek. I try not to hold it against you. It must feel awful to always be second-place, second-best. In college, you were the best night to go out though, if that is any consolation for you. Chin up and keep trying Thursday.

    

Dear Friday,
People wake up happy at the sheer mention of your name. You sly, sexy thing you! Thank you for letting me be casual today. Jeans or Hawaiian shirt day, does it matter? So long as I don’t have to think about it or iron it. With you, I can have my cake and eat it too. You invoke the best in people – extended vacations, early cocktail hour and playing hookey. Sometimes you get a little freaky but it’s all for our benefit. I’m in love with you by 5p.m. each week. Sometimes even 4:30 p.m. Shh, it’ll be our little secret.

    

Dear Saturday,
Yes, I know I have laundry to do and dishes to clean. Sure the grass needs cutting. But I have that party to go to and a barbecue to attend. And there is a sale at that new store. And then there’s this thing after that. You know I love you baby. Thanks for letting me sleep in and staying in my pajamas all morning long. I enjoyed our cuddle time. But now it’s time for fun. I promise to be home early. No I wouldn’t ditch you for Sunday again, I promise.

     

Dear Sunday,
People worship you. You are adored by millions. Holy crap, I didn’t do anything I was supposed to on Saturday! Forgive me for I have sinned. Shame on me for neglecting my regular duties and wasting an entire day to self-indulge. Why are you causing time to roll by so fast? Is that the sun setting already? Why are you punishing me? Please, no – don’t send Monday over to me again. No, anything but that! Please!


(Note: This piece earned Mandy a Finalist in the Humor Press Third Quarter 2013 writing contest.) 

  

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