I Don’t Like Thursdays*

* — Apologies to Tori Amos and whoever originally sang “I Don’t Like Mondays.”

: )

Actually, I do like Thursdays, on a comparative level. I like Thursdays better than Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, for obvious reasons: one day closer to the weekend. In college, I loved Thursdays because they were my Fridays — with Fridays, for all practical purposes, being the start of my weekly 3-day weekend. (Always disliked Thursday classes, though. Tuesdays, too: too long. Not many things in life — outside of love-making, certain films, various sporting events, overdue phone conversations and occasional no-lag online chats — are worth spending more than an hour at a time doing.

I might like Thursdays better than Fridays, now. And there are certain aspects of Thursdays that are better than, say, Sundays. Sundays start out well, before reality sets in and you realize the weekend is just a few hours from being over.

Sundays are pessimistic. Thursdays are optimistic.

Thursdays were better when Seinfeld was still in its original run.

: (

Yesterday I met a man who is growing cotton. This would not be a big deal if we happened to live in Georgia or one of the other southern states; however, this is the Midwest. The land of corn ’n’ beans ’n’ wheat, mostly.

His crop consists of one row. It could just as well be a hundred-acre wood filled with cotton, as far as he is concerned. He likes his cotton.

I like it, too: It’s soft, and the blooms are pretty.

He gave me a couple of bags full of seeds. I might try growing 1 or 2 cotton plants this winter and then plant my own crop next spring.