Tuesday: The Understandable Bitch

I know it wasn't your direct doing, Tuesday. No one can control nature (though some try), not even days of the week.

But this fierce northerly wind, which, according to the NOAA website, at 3:36 p.m. in my area, was at 37 mph sustained, with 55 mph gusts, had to be your plan. I was having a half-decent dream this morning, involving old haunts in Florida, when I was jolted awake at 10-something, my subconscious mind suddenly becoming aware of today's weather. I've never liked the wind in Southern California, especially when there's no rain to accompany it, and you know that. Right now, outside the window next to the computer, I can hear the leaves on that tree being battered fairly regularly. It settles for a few moments and then the wind's voice gets louder.

Oh, and I'm sure you know how much I love my next-door neighbor's windchimes, which remind me when I'm in bed of how heavy the wind is. I sometimes wish for a gust strong enough to blow them to the floor of their patio, but then remind myself of that kind of damage and I immediately rescind that desire. The lesser the wind, the better for me, but that's not how it is today.

I understand your need for this wind today. You're an ignored day of the week. People intimately know Saturday and Sunday because that's the weekend. Monday is famously reviled because people have to go back to work. Wednesday is hump day, which makes people think about the Friday coming up. Thursday is that one day before Friday which people endure because they know Friday is next.

But you? Tuesday? What distinction do you have among the days of the week? You're another day of work; you're another day of ho-hum, following Monday. You really don't have anything going for you. Sure, people might think of you in relation to what's on TV in the evening, but that's also done for Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, especially for Tivo purposes. So I can understand the wind. Right now, the National Weather Service has a high-wind warning in my area in effect until 6 a.m. tomorrow. Yesterday, it was until 11 a.m. It may please you, but you must also remember that you're done at midnight. Wednesday takes over the wind, and how appropriate that it begins to slow down during the morning, and lets people not worry about it (though I suspect I might be one of the very few to worry, being that I'm not a native of Southern California and have not fully gotten used to this), and begin to think about the Friday to come. Sheesh. You lose either way, huh? The winds are set to become more powerful tonight, so you have some notable command to come, as the hours feel like they go so slow during these events, but as of this moment, you only have 7 hours and 3 minutes left to enjoy it. Meanwhile, I'll be working tonight (I hope) on that book, maybe finishing the fact-based portion of my essay on Dorothy Dandridge, anticipating enough time after I'm done for one or two episodes of Black Books, which came from Netflix today. The only time you'll even enter my thoughts is when I hear the wind next to me while I'm on the computer. Then you settle for a moment or two, at least from my vantage point, and I forget you again. But, It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is on ABC tonight, so you'll be ignored during that too. With all of this, I understand why you are the way you are right now.

(The latest readings came in from the National Weather Service at 4:36 p.m: 42 mph sustained, 56 mph gusts. I hope it stays that way for the rest of the evening and doesn't get worse, but knowing your attitude, that's probably not possible.)