A modest proposal for some new days of the week

I don't always hate Mondays. I don't have to drag my ass out of bed for a terrible job. I don't have to go to school and stare out the window wishing I were anywhere else, while Mrs. Crabby explains to Rauli Diaz for the third time why, when you're doing long division, you can't just "throw the remainder in the trash can."

No, it's not like that at all. It's just the concept of "Monday" that I'm tired of. Why do we always have to have the same days of the week, and always in the same order? Why can't we have, for example, Gorksday? This would be the day of the week in which everyone washes out lingerie, then stands on their heads and sings "Hooray for Captain Spaulding."

Under my new plan, traditional Monday could be Gorksday and last 32.5 hours. Every Gorksday, after the aforementioned traditional activities, we could have communal meals in which dessert is eaten first, then aperitifs, then a nice port.

After the meal, everyone at or above the age of consent could go curl up in bed with someone with a wart. If there were not enough warts to go around, people could draw them on.

After Gorksday, we could have Hoegsbergan day, named for all people who wish they could speak German, but can't. Hoegsbergan day would last 15 minutes, and every time it came around, the children wouldn't have to go to school. Instead, they would stay home and memorize the collected works of John Donne, after which there would be a quiz. If there were not enough time for a quiz, they would get a kick in the ass and an admonition "not to let the screen door hit you on the way out."

Next comes Indolentday. This is the day of the week in which everyone sitting at home on the sofa smoking reefer, and thinking about when the next workers' comp check is going to arrive in the mail, has to put out the joint and have a thought. It can be any old thought from, "What a nice day it is," to, "Is my truck really just leaking oil, or is that transmission fluid?" Nothing self-pitying or self-righteous. Nothing starting with, "Fucking old man, if he hadn't a left ..." or, "If I find out who smoked all my damn cigarettes, I'm gonna ..." Indolentday would last 45 1/2 hours. Everyone who was not indolent would get the day off.

After Indolentday comes Rauli Diaz day, commemorating the flunking of Rauli Diaz, the only mathematician ever to change life as we know it by discovering you actually can throw the remainder in the trash. Due to all the parades and other preparation-intensive activities like taco-eating contests and Mrs. Crabby-piñata bashing, Rauli Diaz day would last 12 hours. This is enough time for any reasonable person to perform virtually any necessary task, unless they're a Mexican, in which case, they can do it tomorrow.

Everyone's favorite day of the week--the one they would most look forward to--would be Oh-Boy-It's-Finally-Here day. On this day, anyone big enough to see over the steering wheel could stop any driver seen talking on a cell phone, appropriate the device, fling it to the ground and stomp on it with the determination of an epileptic having a grand mal seizure, until there was nothing left but tiny bits of plastic and a far-away voice asking, "Was that for pickup or delivery?" Due to potential traffic snarls, Oh-Boy-It's-Finally-Here day would last 5 minutes.

Next comes Dogday. Dogs are in charge on Dogday. Owners wear the leashes, and dogs go to the park. Anyone who survives gets a biscuit. Anyone who doesn't have a dog will be fined since there's something the matter with people who don't like dogs. Genitals will be licked, excusing indolents, because of some undiagnosed yet possibly existent back injury rendering them unable to reach. Excuses must be signed by a chiropractor who accepts workers' comp. Dogday would last 27 hours.

Next would come Examine-Your-Conscience day. Anyone who comes up short will say 10 hail Marys, 10 our Fathers and make a good act of contrition. Those non-Catholic or otherwise heretical persons would be allowed to recite the Apostles' Creed, leaving out all the verbs. Those who don't know the Apostles' Creed better grab a book and get cracking. Examining your conscience is a big job, so Examine-Your-Conscience day would last 46 hours.

The last day of the week would be Elevationday, in which the school children get back their John Donne quizzes. Anyone who completely missed the point will be rewarded with large sinecures and/or tenured faculty positions. Anyone with a score of 90 or higher would be rewarded by getting Dogday off, unless, of course, they are really into it.

Anyway, all this is just off the top of my head; I don't see why we keep having this Monday through Sunday thing shoved down our throats. The biggest problem in the world isn't war, disease or even natural disasters. It's a lack of imagination.