Meg Dowell Writes

Dear Friday,

I used to love you, but now I’m not so sure. You used to bring me such joy, and now all you bring me is bucketfuls of science; facts and facts and (more) facts. Whatever happened to sleeping in? Now I have to set my alarm, because you (Friday) sure won’t wake me up.

I have biology coming out of my ears by the time you’re halfway over now, Friday. I’m too tired when I get home to hang out with friends or do anything productive. All I can do is wonder silently to myself, “What did I do? What have I done to make Friday hate me so much?”

I don’t hate you. I just wish I knew why you were doing this to me. I could be SLEEPING right now, Friday. But instead, I’m ready to go (out into the cold, might I add).

So just be nice to me, Friday. In thirteen more weeks, I’ll love you again.

Love&hugs,

Meg♥