Let Go

In elementary school, whenever a kid was asked what their favorite day of the week was, they would say Friday/Saturday. There was always the occasional oddball who said Wednesday (who was thus shunned from the Friday/Saturday crowd), and then there was me. I would always say Monday, desperately trying to stick to the geeky personality placed on me since infancy. I, in fact, hated Mondays, but after I was asked, I would immediately find something more important to think about, such as whether or not you could see my underwear when I walked around. As it turns out, as I have recently discovered, I do, in fact, like Mondays. It could possibly be because I get to see the three friends I actually have again after the two days of separation, or maybe even because going to school makes me feel like I have a purpose in life. Who knows. This recent discovery has led me to ponder whether my younger self had telepathic powers and could actually tell what my older self would like in the years to come … I always knew I had a superior mind.