It has become clear that Thursdays are my worst day. In my journal, the entries about days in which I am irritable, tense and snippy on kid drop-off tend to occur on Thursdays. The days in which I feel bleakly depressed enough to whine to my journal? Thursdays. The days when I doodle prone stick figures and bodies in fetal position? Thursdays.
So. It is clear that on Thursdays I am more neurotic.
OR. It is clear that everyone is more neurotic on Thursdays and I am simply caught in the negative flux of the day's zeitgeist.
I dropped Clara off at 8.09 AM (school starts at 8) after a taxing morning of herding especially unwilling children and dealing with my own especial Thursday dim-wittedness (and it's attendant desire to blame someone, anyone, for the goings-wrong I appear to cause).
And yet we were only the third people there out of a class of 27 students. We were comparatively early. Her teacher asked "Where is everyone?" Good question! Thursday Blight, perhaps?
Then, while walking from Roland Park Elementary back to our car so I could take Winton to preschool, Winton stepped in a large, mustard-colored dog poo.
Random dog poo and other parents' lateness are not symptoms of my psychological inadequacies.
Ergo: Thursday Blight. It is real, people. Beware Thursdays.