Thursdays appear to be my most emotional day. Goodness only knows why, but it seems to be an evolving pattern that I wake up Thursday mornings especially tender-hearted and mushy, and as the day unravels around me, fragility and vulnerability and edginess pump around inside my body with each aching heartbeat. I end up an emotional puddle on the inside, holding myself together from the outside with whatever crude fixative I can lay my hands (heart) on. A joke perhaps. A crisis, or sudden deadline, or complicated task. A conversation with someone (only if it's unflinchingly impersonal). An imagined future drama that I must, must, must prepare for. Whatever works, frankly.
On Thursdays, it seems, I take a full two steps backwards.
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