The Truth About Tuesday

Tuesday is a good day to be alive. You could be dead on Wednesday. Better to lavish praise on Tuesday, given that it's still around to appreciate it.

Monday might have been a good day to be alive, but, seriously, it's been relegated to the dustbin of time, so why bother. Besides, if truth be told, it didn't have a whole lot to recommend it, if I recall. Death, wasted time, retaliation after retaliation, lost love, abandoned love, cold pizza, hopeful smiles. You know those days. Let's just chalk Monday up to experience.

But Tuesday, today, burns in the soul. The sun is striding across the sky. The breeze sings off the wide river like the sighs of a mother having given birth. Tuesday simply demands that Wednesday doesn't even stick its pesky nose around the corner of night. It wouldn't dare. I am alive. On Tuesday.

Wednesday has no rights here. It might erroniously think it has a say because it assumes that because it has a name, it must exist. Stupidity! Base idiocy! It doesn't and it knows it. Not in this universe at any rate.

Hail Tuesday!

Acclaim the colours of the sun in the west, the gold on the leaves, the glinting windows on the hillsides. How magnificent! 

One cannot ignore the seductive aroma of dusk Bar-b-ques, the music, bubbling chatter and exhaust fans infused with the smell of garlic drifting onto the late night Carlton streets.

The intimacy of a true friend reaches from half-way across the world where Tuesday is being born, determined and carefree. 

Tuesday carries the taste of tenderness that Wednesday can only dream about. As for Monday? Enough said.

It's Tuesday and it's alive, real, and the only elixir.

Author’s Note: I wrote this while spending time with three of my friends on what we call a “Men’s Health Retreat”. It conprises good food, good golf, great discussions, enjoying the moment.