The Tuesday People Syndrome was in full
operation this morning as I took my bike ride.
I first observed this phenomenon in my local swimming pool and had my
suspicions confirmed by the lifeguard: more people turn up to exercise on a
Tuesday morning than on any other day of the week.
I have considered, like Holmes, writing a
‘short monograph on the subject’ but will content myself with a few fugitive
thoughts here. Although weeks are no
longer normal in the same way that they were pre-virus, many of the assumptions
made about the qualities of individual days still persist, in spite of living
in different times.
Even without the Boomtown Rats, Mondays
are dread days, being as they are not only the first working day of a normal
week, but also the bummer of a day after the relative freedom of the
weekend.
The weekend itself is actually composed of
two days, but not Saturday and Sunday.
Friday after work is the first part of the weekend and the whole of
Saturday may be regarded as absolute weekend, but Sunday evening has to be
considered part of the working week as that is the time that you worry about
the things you did not do during the weekend that you have said to yourself
before the start you would absolutely complete and you are consequently unable
to enjoy the latter part of Sunday in a true ‘weekend’ way. Early Monday morning is consequently a later
part of the working week than its nomenclature would suggest and the resentment
at having started the working week the night before makes one disinclined to
exercise.
Wednesday is mid-week and therefore is the
tipping point towards the weekend and freedom.
Thursday is the ‘going out in the evening because it will be too crowded
on Friday’ and, even if you don’t actually go out, the fact that you could have
gone out is enough to make the day bearable.
TGIF speaks for itself and it is difficult
to make the day bad, though some have tried.
I am vividly reminded of one glorious year where I had a free period
last period on a Friday! How better to
end the week? I lost that free period on
a regular basis to give cover for other classes. For the entire year! That illusory free period and the morning
checking of the cover list to see that, yet again, the period had gone actually
made the day a misery.
The other case was in my last school in
Catalonia, where the powers that be decided to call a weekly staff meeting
every Friday after the end of the school day!
Luckily this horrific piece of inconsideration was instituted after I
had left, but if I had been forced to attend, it would have precipitated my
leaving anyway. Those of you who have
not endured the purgatory, no, infernal hell of educational staff meetings in
Spanish schools can only guess at the empty soul-destroying horror that
involvement inflicts. For me it would
have poisoned the whole weekend.
And, while we are at it, that same school
called a staff meeting for a Saturday morning!
Saturday morning! I did not immediately
resign, though I made my feelings patently clear. As I told anyone who would listen, if the
meeting was so important that it had to be held on a Saturday morning, then it
should have been important enough to have it during the school day with the
pupils being sent home early to make it possible! During the whole pointless meeting, I did not
smile once or contribute unless directly asked a question. I fumed for the entire three hours (!) that
it took and left immediately when it ended without speaking to anyone. Just typing about it, I can re-texture my
fury, not only at the meeting taking place at all, but also at the attitude of
my colleagues that allowed it to go ahead without armed insurrection.
Which brings us to Tuesday. Tuesday is a day whose distinction is that it
is not Monday and therefore not tainted with the misery of first day of the week. It is far enough for the weekend for that
period of happiness to be a vague memory and it is not yet at the tipping point
of the week either. It is a day when
Things Can Be Done, when the depression of Monday has been shaken off, the
weight of the week has not yet fallen on frail shoulders and there is still an
illusory strength to encourage activity.
So, it is a Tuesday when the resolution to exercise is at its strongest
and when intention is likely to result in action. Therefore, the number of people in the pool
and, even in these odd times, the number of people on the Paseo.
We will see if the numbers are the same
tomorrow, or whether the reality (or suggestion for the Barcelona Metropolitan
Area) have come back into play and the best of intentions get lost once again
in the grind of the week!
Today
is Catalan homework day. I know that if
I put it off for more than one day from the time that it is set, then I am
likely to leave doing the work until the day it has to be sent in and that will
be a panic rather than the mere chore that I am able to tolerate. And I am writing about it here as a physical
impetus to my intent! Sad that I have to
do such things to motivate myself, but it is the way I work. I am not writing in my notebook so regularly
at the moment during lockdown because the routine of swim/tea/write has been
broken, and I have even stopped carrying my notebook in my pocket. This is because I am wearing swimming shorts
during the lockdown because they are more comfortable and easier to don, but
weight in the pockets (that are decorative rather than functional) tends to
drag the garment down – and I am not one for such impropriety! Perhaps I should carry something lighter,
it’s a thought – though as I am mostly indoors, at home, I am never far from
writing materials.
Never
let it be said that a mere lockdown stood in the way of my creative culinary
genius. Today at lunchtime I treated
myself to pollo picado con papa en cubitos, perejil y curry de tienda de papas fritas
that, being translated is, chopped chicken with parsley and diced potatoes in a
chip-shop curry. The latter ingredient
was courtesy of my ‘Red Cross parcel’ from Poundshop, who knew you could get
instant chip-shop curry granules? Well,
I do now. I hesitate to use the word ‘delicious’,
more ‘different’ and ‘interesting’ apply.
Now
a little light sunbathing and then the dreaded Catalan homework!
