Poetic Appetite

When I was in college Wednesday was called Hump Day. I hardly ever celebrated it because I didn't find it hard to make it through the week. Now I understand. Wednesday mornings I can't get out of bed. It has become the day that I wear comfy jeans and cozy turtleneck sweaters to the office. Wednesdays I buy lattes and delay getting to work by running silly errands like stopping at Target just to walk down the endless aisles and buy kleenex. I am always hungry on Wednesdays -- I want banana bread at 10AM, a veggie panini for lunch. I start dreaming about what to fix for dinner before lunch is even over. Wednesday is the day that nothing seems right. I am tired of my leftovers, but it is too soon to go back to the grocery store, too soon to justify eating out or ordering in. Wednesdays are the days I wish I had someone to cook with, eat with, sit with. To dissect the week and make plans for what needs to be done in the next few days. I'm sure half this need comes from lonliness and the other half from laziness -- I want someone else to worry about what to eat and doing the dishes and standing in line at the grocery store. I want to come home and have a meal waiting for me at my house, something I didn't have to think about or plan. A hot plate of food to savor and help me make it through the rest of the week.