ELEANOR
“Today’s weather forecast shows light rain with mild cloud coverage. Don’t go out without an umbrella today, folks! Here’s DJ Dawn with-“
Tuesday. 5:45 A.M. May 16th. Riverton, Wyoming. 82501.
I have 45 minutes until I need to be at Statistics, which is conveniently on the north end of the campus. My dorm lays at the southeast end. After a lovely 2.5 hours with Professor Hoffer, I have some time to research, finish incomplete homework for my other courses, and time to grab an early lunch before I need to be in Foreign Literature.
Of all the seven days in a week, Tuesday is my favorite. It’s not Monday when everyone is groggy and drone-like. On Tuesday’s, everyone sinks back into their routine. It feels routine, almost robotic. There is something comforting about never having to worry of something changing. Tuesdays are all the same, the way a butterfly’s wings are identical. There is beauty in consistency.
That can be the difficulty with life. Hardly anything ever stays the same and every aspect of each little damn thing is changing, altering in some way. You can’t become too attached to the world in one position because it will just keep turning and leave you behind. It will leave you behind and you will be flung into space with no sense of gravity, holding onto that one precious moment. You’ll get lost.
Maybe that’s why I hold onto Tuesdays so much. I’ve found home within a man-made division of time because it stays the same.
Porcelain Prose 