Looking out, sipping coffee, I questioned myself, seeking the day and date. Wow, the sixteenth, half of April is already gone. Thursday again, already? It seemed like we just had one. Pretty soon, it’ll be the weekend all over again.
The weekend doesn’t have much true meaning for me. Military existence as a shift worker made them moot. When I joined management, it changed, and I kind of got the hang of it, mostly due to my wife saying, “It’s the weekend. We should do something.”
Everyone seemed to have a mindset around the weekend – do something, or do nothing. Meanwhile, since dropping out of the employment world to enter the sinister world of being a novelist, I’ve drifted back out of the weekend thing. Everyday is for writing in my world, but I still clash with the rest of the world and its idea of the weekend (along with those pesky interruptions called ‘holidays’).
Weirdly, out of all this, the song by the Killers, “Human” (2008), splashed into my thought stream.
I did my best to notice
When the call came down the line
Up to the platform of surrender
I was brought but I was kind
And sometimes I get nervous
When I see an open door
Close your eyes, clear your heart
Cut the cord
h/t to Genius.com
Interesting to me but probably no one else how my mind jumps through these connections. It makes me smile.
That could be the coffee, though.
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