I used to be important. The bright morning of the week, the fresh start. But, as people got more complicated and life grew ever more dense with tedium, the beginning I brought them was resented.

I look over the city, hearing the tired groans of every person waking up for their jobs, each parent readying the kids for school. It hurts my heart that they lament their lives so much, that the mere beginning of another chapter is a burden instead of a gift.

There is one boy, who I seek out when I need a smile. He’s in third grade math right now, swinging his feet, doodling messy action heros on his worksheet as the cold morning light drifts in through the window. I drift in with it.

Right now, he’s thinking about the x-men episode he saw last night while he draws. But his friends are chatting behind him.

“Mondays are so stupid. I wish that it was always like, Labor Day or something. So we have three weekend days.”

He turns around fast.

“It’s not Monday’s fault that jobs and schools start on Monday! People decided to do that! And then we’d all start on Tuesday and then Tuesday would be stupid.”

His friends laugh a bit at his earnestness, and I smile. It’s nice to have one little defender.

In a time of morning-haters and late-night-regretters, it’s that much more meaningful to see a boy who defends something he doesn’t quite understand just because it doesn’t feel fair.

Monday liked to fart. Tuesday hated art. Wednesday was obsessed with cats, And Thursday was constantly taking naps. Friday was actually secretly a dog. Saturday liked taking care of hogs. And Sunday liked beer.

Sunday went and bought a bar, Thinking that her business could go far. Monday was the first one to come, But his stinky gas made everyone’s noses go numb. Then Tuesday came in, and dissed all the sigma are that Sunday had displayed. And then Sunday gave Tuesday a flay.

Wednesday came in all exited and happy, But was broken when Sunday wouldn’t serve her cats beer. Because Sunday liked beer and didn’t want to share with Wednesday’s cats.

Thursday didn’t come because he was sleeping. That’s pretty lame.

Fridays came barking in, Until Saturday’s hogs took a big win When they killed Friday.

In the end Sunday shut down the bar, And drank beer until he died at the ripe age of 1,234,567,890.

Friday is indecisive. He can’t decide if he will be the best thing to happen to me or the worst.

Saturday has me forgetting I have homework due at 11:59PM. She’s telling me I have time.

Sunday says I’m out of time and I have nothing going for me. Meanwhile he’s the most terrifyingly anxiety ridden one of them all. Why do I believe every word he says?

Monday thinks she can protect me from myself. She loves me and tries to take good care of me.

Tuesday doesn’t know Monday and hopes that I remember to put on clean clothes. They know Sunday forgot to have me do laundry.

Wednesday isn’t really around often.

Thursday says I’m insane and that my dream is absolutely ridiculous.

Monday blues Tuesday snooze Wednesday fun Thursday moody Friday meticulous Saturday hurried Sunday creative

There’s Sadie, Marie, and Savannah. Three besties that found each other sitting next to each other 10 years ago in the same freshman class. If you are looking on the outside, their friendship really doesn’t make sense.

Sadie has this gloomy, Monday morning at 9am after the best weekend of your life, feeling; but she is disciplined and very confident.

Marie is reliable and trustworthy, you could bring her the most insane news ever and she would have an insightful answer that considers both sides. She’s like humpday, always consistent.

And then there’s Savannah, the down to do anything, spontaneous (borderline reckless), hyper and Saturday energy.

Again, from the outside, people ask how do they get along? They’re not just different, they all have significantly different traits.

They may be different, but it’s their differences that bring them together. Even though they are Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, they are still a part of one week. Sadie, Marie, and Savannah are all a part of the same world, doing their best as good humans. They respect and value both their opposition and their cohesiveness. Without one of them, there would not be one entity. Those days create one week, and their relationship creates one friendship, one part of their lives, one chapter of their stories.

Within our group of friends we have many personalities in which we call the days We have Monday Our momma bear she works and works and works and loves everyone around These feelings are never reciprocated and she is always shunned We have our Tuesday The jock the Muscle The Man He is a picture perfect quarterback but what you never sleep is he crys him self to sleep as his dad continues to drink Then there is Wednesday The shortie Shes angry and opinionated She fiesty and sweet She loves cats and comics But hates mac and cheese She is the one we all vow to protect Because her brain dosnet work quite the same We call him grandpa thursday Because he always knows the news He eats green beans and wears leather shoes He likes cardigans and jigsaw puzzles But most of all its because he loves us like to other but he loves us because he was never loved by a mother Friday is the party animal Bringing a new girl to every Bash She has gotten drunk once or twice And thats only within this week What she never tells anyone Is the alcohol nor the food ever stays down The porcelain throne is her stomachs best friend Saturday loves flowers snd books and gaming she does anything and everything she has time for and loves to give gifts she thinks she has no friends and is losing all control Please tell her you love her We cant afford to lose her Last but not least is little baby sunday He started this group And is the nerdy one He helps us all the time and always has to be tidy he is a year younger than all of us He has the coolest house and brings the best food But honestly he is the glue He is the weekend of our group

**(Credits:Raphaela ** **I read theri writing and it inspired me to ** write this theirs was about a family but mine was about a friend group)

MONDAY: I wake from sweet needed slumber only to be thrown out of my bed into a world of people that only criticize your every move.

TUESDAY: I wake up with a little more joy in my heart now that I got a little more sleep the people around me are a little calmer than yesterday.

WEDNESDAY: Humpday, we’ve reached the top now only to go back down but it’s still nice. Wednesday night service at church. Everybody glad that we’re almost to the weekend.

THURSDAY: Friday jr. one of the best days. Sure a few people get agitated about small things but we’re almost done!

FRIDAY: Neon lights, friends, and family make it great. Maybe a crawfish boil or maybe just a sandwich who cares we’re done!

SATURDAY: Sleep in….

SUNDAY: The Sabath Day. Keep it holy.Bible study, choir practice, Sunday school. Jesus!!!

MONDAY: Wait where’s the weekend?

our little family starts with monday, the oldest child of all, she holds herself together, delicate, poised, beautiful, the one that you can count on, when everything goes south, but on the inside she’s scared, because what if they knew the truth?

then, we have our tuesday, the next one to be born, she’s a bit of a mess, really, quiet, precise, careful, prefers books to people, always gets straight As, but she wishes she had the courage, to talk to those she likes,

so next there’s wednesday, the middle child of old, always quick with a joke, outgoing, funny, bold, he likes making people laugh, so that their world’s a bit brighter, but for once he wants someone, who’ll do the same for him,

after that we have thursday, almost the youngest, not quite, he’s just always so exhausted, sweet, tired, forgettable, he’s productive when he wants to be, surprisingly good at sports, always there, but never the favourite, he just want to be remembered, for once,

lastly, we have friday, the youngest of the litter, mom and dad’s favourite, fun, carefree, popular, she’s a social butterfly, has more friends than passes on her transcript, yet none of her friends know her last name, none of them care enough to ask if she’s ok,

now we have saturday, the mother of these children, loves them all to bits, stressed, busy, happy, she’s everybody’s favourite, could do nothing wrong, but hopes that one day, her children will be the same,

finally, there’s sunday, the father of the bunch, comes and goes as quick as a flash, scared, sad, inopportune, everyone likes him enough, but the joy just never seems to last, always compared to saturday, but wishes that just once, he could win too,

now you have our family, messed up, not at all how they seem, and yet i wouldn’t trade it for a thing, because love like that, despite our differences, is worth it all.

Her name is Monday She’s gloomy all the time

His name is Tuesday He slouches and frowns

Her name is Wednesday She does not quite like being the middle

His name is Thursday He admires Friday The life of the party

Her name is Friday She is bright and cheery Much like a sunflower She wakes up with A smile and a good Attitude.

Man. The other ones Could learn a lot From Friday. And if They did Then maybe Just maybe Every day of the week Would be Like Friday.

Sometimes - okay, all the time - she felt like the ultimate middle child. No one hated her, like they did Monday. No one adored her, like they did Friday. No one put religious significance on her, like they did Saturday and Sunday. No one valued her as a pop culture reference, asking "Is it Thursday yet?" or making Addams Family jokes. She wasn't a goal or something to celebrate. She was forgotten. Sometimes she wondered what would happen if she just disappeared.