Wednesday
If I were to rank the days of the week in order of Hooray to meh to I’d-rather-not, it would go like this:
Thursday
Friday
Sunday
Tuesday
Saturday
Monday
Wednesday
Wednesday owns the hallmarks of everything I like: balance, turning point, mild awkwardness. But those characteristics manifest as middling, drawn out, and obstructing. Wednesday is to the week as Nebraska is to the Western US--in the way of everywhere you want to go. I love Thursday but must stumble over Wednesday to get there. Wednesday doesn’t build my anticipation; it just bores me. In my teaching schedule, I aggressively avoid Monday/Wednesday classes because they begin too soon and are done before they make it past the turn. If you call off on Wednesday (which I routinely did in school) then you go directly from just getting started to almost done in one day. Nice!
Wednesday doesn’t seem to hold any meaning--we love to hate Monday and we TGIF. Saturday has an Elton John song and Thursday has Chris Hemsworth, while Wednesday is full of woe, Addams-ness, and wide plains of in-between.
Wodensday, named for the powerful if maniacal Norse god aligned to Odin, equivalent to the messenger gods Mercury (Roman) and Hermes (Greek), sits at the apex of the week, a vantage point from which all is seen and collected and dispersed. But Wednesday is a plateau where I want a pinnacle. Somewhere, it got lopped off.
While Woden demands we charge, Mercury invites us to listen. So how will I listen with fervor? On Wednesday, I’ll write, revise, and publish my blogs and work on social media posts. I’ll make lunch dates with friends. I’ll socialize, network, and talk. I’ve been trying to include a long midday run on Wednesdays--I like to run--and pound through where I have been and where I am going in the week. Account. Meet. Communicate. From Wednesday, I see the week around me as something worth stopping and admiring.