Dear Thursday;

Dear Thursday;

I'm not going to blame you for today. For some reason, I have this nagging sensation that you are just as much an innocent bystander of today's fuckery as I am. In my heart of hearts I know that this morning wasn't a personal attack on your part, but rather the UNIVERSE at LARGE stacking the cards against us. So, while I was bashing my head against my desk, trying to upload the fan film and failing, and while my morning commute was dragged to an unthinkable one hour and 45 minutes (the same time it takes, might I add, to travel from from St. James to Penn Station on the Long Island Railroad…which is a 50 MILE TRIP), I know you were feeling my pain.

Don't worry, Thursday, I shan't ever hate you. I've too many fond memories of you being my last class day during college, of joyous college club meet-ups in your afternoons, and of slaking my thirst for the brewed and distilled with you by my side in your evenings.

Fear not, Thursday. The internet and the MTA may hate us both, but I've got your back.

Your Beleaguered One in Arms,
Nella


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In other news, anyone interested in going to see Inglorious Basterds with me after work tomorrow? Or, if that doesn't float your boat, I'm up for seeing District 9 again. Although, damn, I still need to see Ponyo.

Any takers? I'm a marvelous movie date, I really am. I'll hold the door open for you and stand in line for you and everything!