Days of the Week Anonymous

Everyone associates something different with each day of the week. Mondays are lethargic and painful, Tuesdays are not much different, and generally, as the week progresses, our outlook steadily improves. Because of this progression, some people find it strange that I used to hate Thursday nights.

While most people view Thursdays as a satisfying final obstacle before the jubilation that accompanies the weekend, I used to dread them. In fall of my freshman year I was offered to play in the Western Connecticut Youth Orchestra’s Wind Ensemble. Although I usually jump at any opportunity to play my trombone, there was something extremely daunting about WCYO’s Thursday night rehearsals. Whether it was the forced socialization with other kids from all over Connecticut, the two-hour long evening rehearsals after a long school day, or the lack of nourishment, Thursday nights were equivalent to purgatory for ninth-grade me. Despite their unpleasantness, I withstood four months of these rehearsals, and eventually our winter concert rolled around. After an encore performance of Robert W. Smith’s Africa that warranted a standing ovation, I scanned the audience, with only one thought subsisting in my mind: “This is great and all, but I can’t...