It’s Thursday. Just like any other Thursday. Just like last Thursday. Just like every other Thursday this year. It always starts the same. It always ends the same. After all, it is just Thursday. When the bell rings its up and at ’em as I roll out of the sack and get ready for another Thursday. It’s down the stairs and out onto the streets to fight my way through this world like the rest of the flock. Jostled around with the masses being pushed from here to there without even thinking about it anymore. We are just a mass of flesh. A mass with a mind of it’s own though. For this Thursday, just like every other Thursday, everyone in the mass seems to find its way to where it’s headed. Letting bodies in, pushing bodies out. Just like every other Thursday. Along the way I stop in the same joint to grab some grub to power my morning. I sit in the same spot as I do every Thursday. Just like all the other familiar faces in this place who all come in at the same time and sit in the same place. Just like every other Thursday morning.
This Thursday it looks like it could snow. Last Thursday, it was rain. Or was that the Thursday before? “Doesn’t matter” I say. After a while, all the Thursday’s just seem to bleed together. I hate a cold Thursday. God how I long for the Thursday’s long gone. Those summer Thursday’s when the heat felt like it could bake you right there on the sidewalk. The kind of Thursday where you stop in the middle of everything going on and turn your head to the heavens, and close your eyes. Desparate to feel a cool breeze at your back. The kind of cool breeze that makes the goosebumps on your skin stand at attention. Instead the heat continues to pound down on you, warmer and warmer. Filling every pour, pressing deeper and deeper into the flesh as though it is cooking you to the bone. The cool breeze never comes on those Thursdays. I miss those Thursdays. This Thursday sucks.
This Thursday comes equipped with a gun-metal gray sky that threatens nasty results. It may be a Thursday rain. And if it is, it’s going to be a cold, wet rain. And if it’s not, it’s going to be the first Thursday snow of the new season. At either rate, the Thursday goosebumps you were begging for back then are now here in spades this Thursday. Standing out everywhere on your flesh. In a daydream I stop this Thursday and close my eyes again. Straining my neck towards the sky. Trying with all my might to feel the heat I so dreaded then; wanting so much to feel it pour down on me now and take me away.
But I’ve stood too long. And the mass of flesh around me has grown agitated with my stoic, daydreaming position. This isn’t how we roll as a group. But today, this Thursday, I’m taking my stand. This Thursday is the day I hold my ground and allow myself the right to daydream of that blessed heat. I want it. The mass does not. And the squacking has started. And it grows louder around me. I care not. Except for this a##hole’s cold hands who seems to be ruffling my feathers!!