August 23, 2007 | Filed under: I'm a Dork, Is She Still Talking?

I should be running tonight, but instead I opted for a gajillion-calorie dinner and the pre-season Packers game. Ugh. Thursday nights are the worst.

I know most people dread Monday mornings and Wednesday is “hump day” (who the heck came up with that particular expression, I would like to know, because I find it just … icky, for reasons I can’t fully verbalize) but for me, the lowest energy point in my week is Thursday night.

One particular childhood memory highlights this beautifully. I was probably in second grade and my parents took us to McDonald’s for dinner, which was quite a rarity. I selected a cheeseburger and Hi-C orange drink (the usual) and dutifully ate my dinner without contributing much to the conversation. Fifteen minutes later, I was curled up on the hard plastic bench, asleep, a good hour before my bedtime. Ordinarily my mother would not have permitted such impoliteness (benches are for sitting on, not laying on, and I was certainly old enough to know better, especially in public) but I was so clearly wiped. out. that she let it slide.

In college I could nearly set my watch by what I termed my Thursday Night Headaches, which were just as they sound — headaches that routinely developed by Thursday night. (Some lucky weeks the headache onset came in the afternoon.) One student organization I belonged to held weekly exec committee meetings on Thursdays, 7pm. That was the longest year of my life, because we had important stuff to hash out each week and each week I felt like shit and each week I felt guilty for not being at my best and each week I resented the fact that that meeting was the only thing that stood between me and my bed. And they almost never ended on time.

It’s like my body says, “Pardon me, but I have spent the last four days getting the crap kicked out of me and now I am D-O-N-E, done. I know, conceptually, that there is one more day left in this week, but that fact means nothing to me.” I am tired, listless, have no decision-making skills, and want nothing more than to fall into bed and wake up on Friday morning, despite the fact that if I actually attempted this, I’d surely be awake by 4 AM on Friday, a time which, even for me, does not fully qualify as “morning.”

Needless to say, I am a fabulous addition to any Thursday night happy hour you may have planned. The over-tiredness is complemented quite nicely by a couple of beers, and pretty soon I magically have more energy but don’t care about a darn thing. And for someone whose brain is permanently stuck in overdrive, those hard-fought, not-caring moments, they are pure bliss.

1. Leandra says:
   

   I feel EXACTLY the same way about the phrase “hump day.” In fact, I never use it and it totally gives me the weirds whenever anyone else does.

   And if Wednesday is hump day, then Thursday must be fall on your face exhausted day. Usually by thursday I’m just done, too. The kids usually get sandwiches for dinner and last night I went to bed at 8:55. Yes, I am old.

   August 24th, 2007 at 3:16 am
2. lisa says:
   

   Thursday should be called Crash Day. A lot of Thursday nights I’m just waiting until it’s 9:00 so it’s a halfway reasonable hour to go to bed!

   August 24th, 2007 at 9:05 am