It’s official. Tuesdays have replaced Mondays on the scale of suckage.
Actually this phenomenon happened about a year ago when I realised that the only thing I ever truly hated about Mondays was the fact that Tuesday followed it. Perhaps because Tuesdays are the first day in the week when the crankiness of another weekend gone by too soon is not tolerated as a viable excuse for unproductiveness anymore. Regardless, Tuesdays should be killed off like the ogress mother-in-law character in every single Bollywood movie.
This Tuesday, the sky was extra gloomy and I had no time to make coffee since I had laid paralysed in bed for too long in the morning. Maybe it was that my brain was still trying to metaphorically smash its internal alarm clock or maybe it was the thought of eating nothing but red peppers for lunch since I had been too freaking lazy to pack a lunch, but no sooner than I got on the bus, I began to ponder the meaning of life.
What’s the meaning of life? Is watching The Bold and the Beautiful, fighting other working middle class slaves to catch a seat on the bus from work and blogging about it really all there is to it?
(Spoiler Alert: Yes)
I took out my notebook never really intending this to actually warrant a blog post. I was not feeling particularly existential or philosophical. Even my usual morning prayer of “Dear God, please just get me through this shithell of a day” was interrupted by someone letting out a godawful fart on the bus.
It was only when I got on my second bus transfer that my caffeine-starved brain started to get all poetic on my mediocre life. The driver of my second bus was a replica of Morgan Freeman. In fact, when I saw him, I just gawked while my right hand flashed my bus pass at him on autopilot.
He stared back at me with a look as if to say, “Shut your complaining and get on the bus, Ms. Daisy”. And then I opened my notebook and began to write.
Tuesdays suck. For that matter, so do Mondays and any other day that involves dealing with assholes. But that’s just a fact of life. You may say that you had a great day because you had to outrun just one crazy bag lady for the only seat on the bus instead of the usual four creepers and one lunatic who always talks to himself, but that’s just your way of seeing Terrible Tuesday in a positive light. Which is wonderful, because letting go makes the day go faster.
They say that all good things come to an end but you know what? So do Tuesdays. So what if this day is full of shit? There’s no way to get around it but through it. And at the end of the day, I’ll watch The Bold and the Beautiful and blog, which turns out, are my two favorite things. And if I’m really lucky (and I was) I’ll get a seat on the bus without having to wrestle hobos (no easy feat for me).
I realised that in the end, what I equated to mundane things at the beginning of this day (blogging, watching my favorite TV show, talking on msn with my mother) turned out to be the things that got me through the actual mundane. And in the present, I could be happy if that’s all there is. People spend the best parts of their lives chasing after the next big nothing that will make their mundane lives seem more tolerable never realising that the best part of life is happening while they out busy looking for it.
In the wise words of Mick Jagger “You can’t always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need”.
I still cannot answer the question ‘What’s the meaning of life?’. I think it’s up to each one to find their own meaning. But I do know what’s the meaning of my life at the end of this Tuesday and it can all be summarised into one word: Weekends.
Before I got off the bus, I turned to Morgan and said “Have a good Tuesday”. He gave me a knowing look, a slight nod and half a smile. He knew. Freeman and I were on the same wavelength.
Either that or he had secretly just smoked a joint in the last 10 minutes. He was a TTC driver after all.