Monday was a BEACH DAY. It was a day that existed only for me to go to the beach. The sun rose in the sky solely because it wanted to seduce me. Monday. The only reason we didn’t skip from Sunday to Tuesday this week is because Monday was in love with me and wanted to touch my face. It teased me with gentle kisses streaming through my window on warm yellow sunbeams. It made the sky extra blue and the clouds furiously fluffy and white so it could catch a glimpse down my shirt when I couldn’t stop looking up. It playfully tousled my hair during the disarmingly traffic-free drive to Galilee. It arranged for easy off-street parking. Then things got heavy.
Monday gave me exactly enough money to get a fried fish sandwich, clamcakes, and lemonade. Monday filled my belly with greasy fish and coated my lips with sticky sweet. It made me sweat so that the sand stuck to my body and when my friend rubbed sunscreen on me it hurt– just enough. Then Monday made the sun just pour down on me. It made the sand the kind of hot that gives you goosebumps, exactly the kind of hot I like best. Monday coaxed and pushed and just a little bit forcibly pulled me to the water’s edge. Oh, the ocean.
I’ve mentioned before my strong belief in the obliterative cleansing powers of the ocean (Blue, Navy Blue). It’s just so big. It doesn’t drown your sorrows, it unthinkingly washes them away with its awesome bigness. Monday firmly grasped a fistful of hair from the back of my head, drew me into the cold clear salty sea, and melted into the rolling waves that held me in heavenly suspension between the water and the sky. Heartache and worry and hurt seeped out; salt and cold and air and heat and water and blue and white and gold washed over and in. Like a human teabag.
After Monday tossed me a towel to clean up and saw me safely home, I
flew biked around town and went out for a few drinks, bra-less, makeup-less, careless, and sweetly spent. Everyone I saw told me I looked amazing. Anyone who had my Monday could never look less than amazing. If the day doesn’t love you, though, you can always love yourself. We’re here to help you with that.