Dreading the dawn of Monday.
That’s what I do.
Ever since I started elementary school, my stomach clenches at the mention of the first day of the week. Somehow, it brings back the
- smell of of greasy tuna fish sandwiches wrapped in wax paper,
- agony of wandering through the lunch room and not finding a friendly face or a place to sit,
- embarrassment of having no homework to hand in because I never thought of it over the weekend.
Thing is, I haven’t held a wax-paper wrapped tuna sandwich in a long time. I seriously doubt the lunchroom-of- doom is still standing after all these years. I bet those teachers have long forgotten the the stacks and piles of homework that never got done.
Honestly, I would prefer not to the old Mondays in my mind any more.
So, when the bad memories start to
- drag me back
- to the worst recollections of my past
I guess I’ll just have to hang on to the good of the here and now.
Believe me, focusing on the tiniest spec of hope makes a big difference. It can keep a person from sliding away.