Day in, day out

Sunday-Feelings of melancholy and peace ebb and flow like wisps of smoke that I am unable to fully grasp. bluish-grey or slate. Leonard Cohen plays often and without warning.

Monday-Productivity and purpose replaces last night's longing. Pilates with a view of the bay puts mind and body at ease. butter yellow and turquoise. Jamie Lidell's Jim puts a spring in my step. 

Tuesday-List-making and planning dominate my thoughts as they turn from the everyday to what the future holds. chartreuse and lilac. Feist on my ipod. NPR on my radio.

Wednesday-French tutoring in an authentic French brasserie in Los Feliz takes me out of my mundane everyday and into a new world mentally and emotionally. Doubt of my abilities creeps in. brick red with gold. Coconut Records consoles and transports.

Thursday-Thoughts of the weekend and plans with friends take shape. Restless and sometimes lonely. blog posts written and erased in contempt simultaneously. midnight blue and sandstone. Jazz and sultry blues.

Friday-Morning Pilates energizes and leaves me feeling clean and new. Family and friends upstage my inner dialogue. Crisp white and yellow. Nous Non Plus and other uptempo eccentrics set my toes to tapping and my smiles to widen. 

Saturday- Begins sleepy with brunch or ballet stretching. Moves into relaxation and reconnection with friends later on in the afternoon, and ends with impassioned conversations on art, politics, and nostalgia into the night. caramel-colored like a glass of body-warming whisky. Sounds vary from karaoke and raucous laughter to subdued nostalgic songwriters depending on setting and cast of characters. 

not my week

My weeks go so fast. They are always good and each day feels strangely like every other one. They start on Tuesday and I can't believe how quickly Tuesdays come back to me. My weekly impression is that I love my life. Here is a weekday impression list for someone else:

Tuesday: Week begins. Feeling of motion. Ending with a motion sick stomach.

Wednesday: Feverish nightmares.

Thursday: Dizzy.

Friday: Attitude that eats away at my spirit and everyone elses.

Saturday: I like to think I'm productive but lately, I'm not.

Sunday: Wishful dreaming, realizing those dreams are but tools for recreational hatred toward myself.

Monday: Whatever

Friday nights

Friday nights were all about Mario Party.
Ang & Michael would get off work at 8:30 and bring their dinner to our apartment.
We would play until after midnight without a care in the world, always having the time of our lives.
The game was never the same twice but the one constant was Valerie falling asleep with the controller in her hand.

When we moved out of the apartment and into our house, the atmosphere stayed the same and Friday nights lived on.
As the months went by 8:30 became 6:30 and we started to have dinner together.
I would try to make something new or special every week and that is when I truly developed my love for cooking and cooking for others.
We no longer had to ask Ang & Michael if they were coming over on Friday, they just started asking us what was for dinner.

Valerie was pregnant in 2005, and she stopped playing Mario Party with us on Friday nights.
She could no longer stay up that late, so we had to replace her by playing with one computer player that we called "the droid."
Our one goal was not to let the computer player win, it didn't matter who won, as long as it wasn't the droid.
After Ari was born, things really didn't change too much, we just had to keep our voices down a little when we played.

Now that we have Ari, Piper and Emilie in the mix, we rarely play Mario Party anymore.
We continue to get together every Friday and still make new and exciting dinners and desserts.
Eva & Daniel have been coming over on Friday nights when they are in town, and sometimes Katie too.
Having them with us make the evenings we spend together even more special because of all the memories we share.

What started as just getting together to play a simple video game has turned into so much more.
Friday nights are about good food, good conversation, and family and friends creating memories together.
Even after all these years, I am genuinely disappointed when something causes us to miss a night.
I can honestly say that there is no other way I would want to spend an evening.

Days

Monday: Carrier of haze. The general reinstatement of efforts toward mortal industry.
The ethers hold sway as a weight against renewed vigor and rest.
Dogmatic is a word I will describe this day.

Tuesday: My spirit has risen up and decided to become a contender to enter the
arena for the remaining work week. I will stifle my ambitions a couple notches
to conserve for the long haul of the next 72 hours.
Stoic is a word for Tuesday.

Wednesday: The mid-life of the mundane terrestrial existence. Woes can be fought and
negotiated here. Treaties signed and wounds wrapped.
Tumult is my word for Wednesday.

Thursday: A day to look long. Scan the horizon. Point out the clustered band of
barbarians to your generals and pursue them. Look up, stare at the
solar disk for a moment. Glance mercury if you are lucky.
Assurance is the word for Thursday.

Friday: Flatulence and rest.
Comatose.

Saturday: Saturn's glory. Vigor. Release. Expression.
Creation-Recreation is Saturdays lifeblood.

Sunday: Passive? I just have not figured this one out.
Gods day of rest? Why do I feel Amish on this day?
Repentant is the undertone of Sunday. Quiet is also dominant.
A good re-centering day.

Days of the Week

Monday: A mustard seed in winter soil.
Tuesday: Peasant carts on the daybreak horizon coming into town from the provinces.
Wednesday: Eating a meal knowing it ends with you washing all the dishes and heavy pots by hand, alone.
Thursday: Between the scholar and the sage.
Friday: Shut in a library thinking of pink neon signs reflected in rain lacquered sidewalks.
Saturday: Victorian wooden toys lying on hard wood floor, vibrating to the sound of lawnmowers.
Sunday: Feet propped up on a table, chamomile tea, sadness at twilight.

Micro Week Of A Baby Boomer

This is based on my four, ten hour day work week. Monday being my extra day off.

Saturday: Yee Haw! I feel good! Watch the sun rise with my love.

Sunday: Yawn, stretch, coffee in bed. Sundays are gentle and sweet.

Monday: I love Mondays! M is for My day. Just me, some minor chores and whatever I want to do.

Tuesday: It's off to work I go, but I'm cool. I like my job.

Wednesday: Getting up at 5 am gets a little harder but coffee and a nice sunrise sets the mood.

Thursday: I hate Thursdays! That's my hit the wall day. ARRGGHH ten hours is a lifetime.

Friday: Filled with hope and anticipation, I plow through the day. After work I hurry to be with my Sweetie and then usually fall asleep by seven. I'm too old for this shit.