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Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

I started my job as a consultant on Monday, April 13, 1998. February 1, 1999, I was made a full time geek. That puts me at the ‘congratulations, you fuck-wit, you’ve spent five years as a corporate wage slave.’

I hate that sometimes.

Then I love the freedom my job gives me. Yeah, they can stress me out, but ever since I quit working for Mr. 2-O’Clock, my stress level has plummeted, I sleep better, and I feel more relaxed. I stopped making life hard on myself, and really I’m doing quite well. I have time to write at work (about an hour here or there), and I can catch up on the news on-line, since they’re okay with me googling and CNNing at my desk at lunch.

But today is Wednesday. And I despise Wednesday.

Most people hate Monday. I never have. Monday is like Sunday. It’s the beginning of the work week (where as Sunday is the beginning of the Jewish week … yes, we control your calenders). On Monday, you’re not a fuck-up. On Monday, no one hates you for any reason other than it’s Monday. Monday is new, bright and full of possibility.

Tuesday is Hellmouth Day. As a kid, it was special snack day. In my first High School, we got some funky, cool candy treat for lunch. At my second, PB&J. In college, it was my sleep in day. But thanks to Buffy, it’s Hellmouth Day. “Oh, it’s Tuesday, world ending, whatever.” I’ve become cavalier about Tuesday. It’s the day I expect shit to happen.

Wednesday I hate. I’ll get back to that.

Thursday is the day before Friday, and is the night of Must See TV (which I don’t watch at all). Even without CSI, Thursday was always a great fun night. It was a night I could go out drinking and hanging out, or do stuff with my SO. Thursday was just special.

Friday, well, who doesn’t love Friday? People who work Saturday, yes I know. Friday is the dress-down day at the office, where half the people take a day off and I can catch up on documentation, emails, and gossip. Friday night is Shabbat, and I can cheerfully welcome it into my life. Friday I also see my good friends, and we hang out and chat until the neighbor bitches at us.

Saturday, Shabbat 2.0. I tend to exercise in the morning. Go for a run or such. Enjoy the still beauty of my weekend.

Sunday the week starts anew, and I run errands, clean house, lounge on the couch admiring the loveliness that is my SO. Oh, and watch the TV I’ve taped all week. I’m shallow.

But Wednesday I don’t like. Hump Day, Mid-Week Blues, whatever you want to call it. Wednesday is a nothing day, an in-between day where everything is a little extra tense, because deadlines are always Friday and the work you were assigned Monday didn’t get cleared up until yesterday. Wednesday has bad traffic, and bad TV (seriously, Angel’s canceled, WTF is up with that?), and bad hair.

Maybe I’m reaching for that last one.

The point is I just never got used to Wednesday. I always felt forced, as if I was tricked into an evil day. To flip back to Buffy, there’s an alternate universe where it’s always Wednesday. That’s my hell.

This week it was worse, because I had Monday off. Yesterday felt iffy, and today I couldn’t understand what was wrong with the world until I got to the office and realized … it’s Wednesday.

So hats off to Wednesday, as it fucks me up right again. Wednesday fucks you, it fucks you, it fucks you.