Boomtown Mondays
–What day is it?
Her eyes squinted off into a distant place, as though she were trying to recall a calendar page and picture it in front of her. She brushed her hair back from her face in a haphazard, distracted manner reflective of her intense concentration.
–It’s Sunday, sweetie.
She was quiet for a moment, eyes locked in that far away place. Then she broke the silence with a groan.
–Oh, I hate Mondays.
It was hard to suppress a laugh. Sometimes I suspect that I irritate her when I laugh at thoughts she feels quite sincerely. She doesn’t understand the irony … never heard the song by the Boomtown Rats, and probably doesn’t understand why when I hear her say such a thing, I have to release my own anxiety by having a little chuckle. She probably does hate Mondays — despises them, I would imagine — but not because Monday marks the return of school, or the end of the weekend. She hates Mondays because for 10 weeks straight, Mondays are the days when she gets poked and tested and laced with chemo. If I were her, I’d hate Mondays, too. (more…)
