Each day of the week....

I was awakened by the all to familiar sounds of Friday screaming and tripping over himself, he rarely slept. Glass shattered. Music blared. Saturday had awaken too. Now both were laughing and desperately holding each other up while stumbling around the mass of sleeping week days. Friday was covered in numerous tattoos with a tie around his forehead, and Saturday was covered in dirt and various alcohol stains from Friday. Friday and Saturday were drunk, sleep deprived and constantly looking for women. Monday was passed out cold, and would be in his coma for most of the day until it was his time to sleep where he would miraculously emerge and not be able to sleep during the night. Sunday, trying to not give in to the peer pressure of Friday and Saturday, was constantly trying to cram all the work that Friday and Saturday put off. Friday and Saturday now leaving Sunday alone to work, were sharing a bottle of Jack and reeling around and taunting Thursday. Thursday was a complete mess, tripping over Monday (who was still in a coma, and snoring loudly) and desperately trying catch up to Friday, who was always just out of her reach. Her hair and make-up was frightening, yet she went out like this often. She day dreamed about Friday constantly like a love-struck fool. She watched the most t.v shows out of all of them, trying to make up for the fact she will never feel as close to Friday as Saturday.They all annoyed Wednesday, who complained about the volume of the music while trying to work. Wednesday was working, always working. He looked over the frame of his dirty and smudged glasses and bitterly shouted at Thursday to ignore Friday and work too. She worked and studied with Wednesday till around mid-day until eventually giving up and sleeping. Tired and sluggish, I stretched and walked over to Wednesday to work too. He ignored me most of the time. I am Tuesday, if you hadn't guessed, one of the more quiet and productive days. I don't bother Wednesday as much as the others, even Monday when woken annoyed him. If you where ever able to wake Monday he was short tempered and tired. The bags under his eyes were darker and more prominent then permanent shadows. I sighed, knowing the same routine would repeat itself until the end of time.