It’s not raining. I’m surprised as I step out on the porch this morning on the
way to work. Maybe I won’t need
the Rider green raincoat I
purchased at Otter Lake last year and that kept me toasty and dry in
Galway. Yes, the pavement is damp;
it has rained. The
prognostications of the weather forecasters have been fulfilled elsewhere or
not at all, so far, it seems. What
a great Wednesday ahead.
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Wednesday is so much more.
Wednesday is :
·
a brain-wringing, creative
opportunity to plan a dynamic and practical session for teachers;
·
stimulating pedagogical conversations
with colleagues;
·
a thank-you note from my
daughter-in-law for the baby shower gift, a reminder that she cherishes the
tradition of the hand-written letter;
·
an email from a music minister
offering to take one of the weekend liturgies this week, freeing me to handle
only one rather than two, and then to free me up next Sunday, too, so I can
attend an event with my husband;
·
an hour with our son on Skype,
finding out about his new digs;
·
an hour with my harp relaxing
brain cells that the creative process has strained;
·
the tang of paint when I get
home after work; on this humid day, my husband has painted the downstairs
bathroom, still in renovation;
·
a few stolen minutes to stretch
and work my muscles still stiff after a day of sitting and calculated movement.
Tomorrow will be Thursday, another day of new
delights and challenges, exceptional and joyous in itself, and certainly not
because it brings me closer to Friday and TGIF.
Media denizens, language that expresses
dismay over Monday, relief on hump Wednesday and joy on Friday conveys a
negative message—that the best part of our life is the weekend. That somehow we stumble through the
rest of the week in a blur, tolerating each day only because it brings us
closer to respite on the weekend. Even
more serious, the negativity is mired in an obsolete worldview that defines
weekend as Saturday and Sunday.
How many of us work within the traditional workweek? How many more work
on Saturday and Sunday, with days off scattered through the rest of week? How many work every day, without the
benefit of days off? So, please,
use the power of the airwaves to help us focus on the moment, to rejoice that
tomorrow is Thursday, for its own sake.
Help us to focus on the reality of the 21st century rather than cling to
a faded and jaded model.
No wasting five-sevenths of my life for
me. I want to savour every
moment of every day with which I am gifted, with its joys and challenges and
aches and delights
“Hump day” taints a perfectly good
Wednesday. What a shame! No
more. Please.
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