Gimme Wednesday

OK, so, here it is, Christmas time.
Everyone's stressing, everyone's spending and rushing and wishing and hinting.  Smiles are happening and people are making it happy once again.  It's wonderful.  I really love Christmas time because I have no kids.  Oh my God, what a mess things would be if kids were involved.  Couldn't do it. 


I went to the mall.  I love the mall for the holidays.  Lots of rushers.  Lots of happy people among all the rats and jerks.  Little kids, even, singing carols just for you and me. 


I saw Santa there at the mall.  I waited in line and smiled at the nasty-face-tossing young mothers.  When it was my turn I gently sat down on the old man's fragile legs and ignored the grimace underneath his cheap beard.  And I told him what it is want most for Christmas. 


I told him that, when he lands that sleigh on top of my little house and while those reindeer crap and stomp on my roof, I want him to somehow make it down through my decorative fireplace and bring me the gift I've always wanted. 


I want Wednesday.


People want cars and ponies and dolls and teeth and jewels but all I want is Wednesday.  I don't give a hoot for Monday because, I mean good grief, who the hell wants Monday.  Tuesday is not as crappy as Monday but it's a nothing day anyway.  Thursday is heading toward the weekend and nobody gets really excited about producing much there.  Friday is totally out because everybody is already weekended out so it's generally worthless.  Weekends aren't worth having for my purpose. 


I want Wednesday.


I want everything that is produced on Wednesday anywhere and everywhere they have it.  If it's Mittwach I want the Euros.  If it's Yom revee-ee they can send me shekels.  Produce something on Wednesday in Mexico and send me those pesos. 


Wednesday will be mine from then on.  The Wednesday following Christmas will be my own.  And every Wednesday after that until I get tired of it.  Make some wine on Wednesday, it's mine.  Cut some grain, clean some herb, brew some beer, send it to me.  Everyone working on Wednesday will be working for me.  They'll gather all the stuff and all the monies and all the various things that I'll reap from my Wednesdays and they'll store it all just for me.


First thing I'll do about Wednesdays is change the damnit spelling of it.  How many people do you know say "Wed Nes Day"? 
It's NOT wed nes day.
It's Wensday.
We'll change the name to Wensday.  This is your first hint.  Become a calendar corrector as soon as you can swing it.  Big money in it soon. 


I'm unsure if Santa was cool with my idea or not.  He was busy talking to the paramedics.  The children were running around crying and the ladies were doing the same thing ladies have been doing around me all my life.  They were trying to get away.


I'll remember them when I get Wednesdays.  I'll get back at those who don't like me.  I'll get back at them on Wednesdays.  I just won't let them in.  You'll have to know the password.  Be on the list.  Be 'cool'.  Otherwise you can just forget Wednesdays.  They're going to be mine.