It's okay. Most people don't. Not until they've spent a couple of hundred Tuesdays with me, then it just dawns of them and I get the inevitable "oh. my.god. you were right. Tuesday has it out for you".
I'm not quite sure what I ever did to her. I was born on a Tuesday. Maybe that was it? I can't prove it off hand, but I think my mother and my grandmother were born on Tuesdays too. And I can tell you that all of my children were born on Tuesday, save the last one. That's why she's different. I walked through four gates of Hell to have her, and she was born on a Sunday night. Out of five pregnancies, the first one was born on her due date on Tuesday; the second was born five days late on a Tuesday; the third miscarried very early on a Tuesday; and the fourth, my Angie, was born too soon on a Tuesday. You could argue that the blessings of my children negate the evil Tuesday, but then you've obviously never endured 28 hours of back labor.
I also woke up on Tuesday, my 34th birthday with a new left hip.
It's not always the big things though. Sometimes Tuesday kicks my ass with simple, mundane, everyday things like needing to get gas and it's rainy and windy that day. If I am going to find a way to embarrass myself or put my foot in my mouth, it'll probably be on a Tuesday.
The thing is, I'm afraid my Tuesdays are contagious. I might invite someone to spend a couple of hundred Tuesdays to actually witness the assticity of it all with me, but then they start having Tuesdays too. Their former enemy, Monday, retreats slightly, and realizes that bitch is horning in on her turf, screwing up people's days.
Don't be afraid of Mondays, especially if you're close to me. Monday is just amateur fuckery. Things like not having your car start after the weekend is easy, and Monday coasts through it. But the scheming bitch on Tuesday really plans how to screw up the rest of your week.
Don't be afraid of Monday. Be afraid of Tuesday. She's rancid bitch.
