Wednesday is my favorite day. There’s still more work-week to get projects done but the weekend is in sight. Thursday has the New York Times Style and Technology sections so that makes me happy first thing in the morning and Friday is yoga at 6am with my gang of stretchers and kvetchers, going on twenty or so years together. Monday is a hopeful day of getting off on the right foot, making new lists and noticing how the month is flying by. Tuesday is usually the day I get wrong as in forgetting which day it is, it’s a stuck in the middle day, a not-much day.
There are secret ways of navigating time and how different days are in different contexts; seasons, places, company. My career has always included teaching college full-time so the year is marked in semesters and breaks. I live in a climate of four dramatic seasons.
Time parallels experiences in the years I’m piling up too. My students remain to be eighteen to twenty-two years old as I pull ahead each year in my own age number, my kids catch up to their age then slowly pass. I hear others mark age compared to their parents or that now I’ve now lived ten years longer than my older brother did and I was twenty-eight when my mom was my age. Is there too much time spent imagining and comparing paths and presence and presents? Today is Monday. Happily Monday.
Signs of time intersect with experiences.