Every Saturday. I just hate them. I can’t recall the last time I was happy on a Saturday. Some of the worst things in my life have happened on a Saturday. Hell, I was born on a Saturday! Can’t get worse than that!
I like the Indian name for Saturday – Shani Var. I think it is much the same in any Indian language. The day that the Shani God rules. I am not a great believer in some four-armed being ruling the roost from a cozy perch up in the skies – but hey, I think I ought to believe in Shani! Wikipedia says this about Shani:
Shani gives us the results of one’s deeds through one’s life through appropriate punishments and rewards.
Now see! Isn’t that revealing. I think Saturdays are my punishments day! No rewards. No sir! Isn’t it apt then that after months of careful driving, I allow myself to become a nervous wreck because my Dad decides to be the 2nd driver in the passenger seat, and then, while turning left I am so blind that I cannot see the sign marker there, and graze the left passenger door. Ugly scratches on black. I can cry. And I did cry. Saturdays. Remove them from the calendar.
Growing up, I hated Sundays. I hated Sundays so much I always had a headache on Sundays.