I have seen so many of your brothers and sisters come and go. Some I’ve loved, and some I’ve hated. Some have sped by so fast I got whiplash. Others dragged their feet so slowly I wanted to kick them for being so boring. All of them have the reputation of actually being worse than your black sheep brother, Monday, because everyone knows that Tuesday is when the real work gets done.
I am sending you this letter because I want you to know that I am not holding those other crappy Tuesdays against you. I’m not even holding up the good ones for comparison. It is not your fault that others of your ilk have been horrid, and not your responsibility to live up to the best of Tuesdays past. Your responsibility is to show up. It is my responsibility as to what I do with the day with which I have been presented.
It is my choice you see, my choice what I do with the day that I have been given. I can choose to see you as an opportunity, as a gift, and not a burden. It doesn’t matter if other people have decided that you are going to be crappy and frustrating and try to drag me down with them into their own personal Hell. I have made the choice to ignore all of that; to take whatever is thrown at me and to create something beautiful out of it; to see something beautiful IN it; something that I will remember forever. So, thank you for the gift of yourself, dearest Tuesday. Wish me well as I hurtle or possibly stumble along through your hours. You may not have the power to make my day good, or bad, but you are awesome in and of yourself, and I just wanted you to know that.
Yours every Tuesday,