Why I hate: May 29

Today is my second least favourite day of the year. It is my mother’s birthday. Instead of buying her perfume or taking her out for dinner & a show I ordered her a bunch of flowers to put on her grave. There are some days that I’m not depressed. I’m sad. I’m lonely. I’m angry. I’m sorry. For 24 hours my brain takes a back seat and my heart takes front and centre.

Sometimes I start these days thinking it is just a normal day. Just this morning I woke up to an emergency work situation that took up the first 20 minutes of my consciousness. Then BOOM….like a ton of bricks….I remembered why I went to bed last night dreading waking up today. My stomach leapt into my throat, my world spun around me and my heart broke all over again.

My mother has been gone for two and a half years and I still reach out to pick up presents for her when I’m out shopping. Then I remember.

I found a nice verse today, which sums up the day quite nicely:

We never need a special day
To bring you to our mind,
For days without a thought of you,
Are very hard to find.

Tonight I go to a sewing class. I promised myself that every year on this day I would do something from my bucket list. Instead of being about loss I will try to make this day a tribute, by doing one of the things that I know she would have loved to hear me tell her about. My mind knows this is a great idea, but my heart is having a hard time letting it take back the reigns.

Why I hate: May 29

Why I Hate: Tuesdays

Forget Monday. As far as I’m concerned Tuesday is by far the worst day of the week.

You know what you’re getting with Monday – everybody has experienced dying inside a little bit when setting the alarm on a Sunday night, knowing in 8 hours you have to pretend to be a functioning member of society again – for 5 whole days.

Wednesday is a great day – hump day as many call it. If that’s not an excuse to hit the pub/cinema/shops then I don’t know what is. It’s also usually a good night for the telly.

Thursday, well that’s the day before Friday. Shops are open late. Some lucky people get paid. New movies are released. And it’s become the new Friday in terms of after work drinkies.

Friday needs no introduction. A quick 8 hour stint at your desk and then you’re free as a bird. Afterwork party? Spur of the moment hiking trip? Hop on the train to Paris? The possibilities are endless and the hope carries you through to 5pm. You might even start by having lunch out, given that its a Friday and all. Maybe even a cheeky dessert.

Saturday & Sunday are mainly determined by your marital and family status. Single – hungover and “never drinking again”. Cohabiting – getting lost in IKEA before throwing a wine and cheese gathering for your couple friends. Parents – panic buying a slutty doll or ‘roided action man for little Britney or Jerimiah’s birthday party and cooking your freezer meal stash for the week. At 11pm all threads of society come back together again for the collective groan of agony when someone remembers they forgot to wash their work trousers, or that tomorrow is that board meeting they forgot to prepare for.

Ah, so nice and predictable. These obliging days have a predetermined purpose based on their place in the week. You are anchored in them, anchored in the global activity of passing another day with your fellow humans.

But not on a Tuesday. Oh no. Tuesday you wake up and all you have to do is repeat Monday again. There are no days off on the horizon, not even a glimmer of Friday peeking through a crack of the curtains of Thursday. Your past is Monday and nobody wants to think about that again. Sometimes we try to deceive ourselves by taking a class or joining a team – we try to force meaning and purpose onto Tuesday. Then we can say things like “oh Tuesday, that’s Tag Rugby day”. Whatever you need to get through to the safety of Wednesday I suppose!

I sometimes feel as if my life is a never ending Tuesday. I can’t remember the good times, they are too far gone to be easily called to mind. The past I can remember is a hazy blur of awfulness. And I’m so far from a reprieve it seems as though the light will never come.

Why I Hate: Tuesdays