Bed is always good.
My days usually go like this: wake up, get ready, get in words, do day job, go home, watch movies with mulleted husband, sleep. Repeat times five to seven with bits of variation. It would be mundane, if it weren't for the highlights that make it fun, interesting, or...Wednesday.
This song has been stuck in my head for the past month, and I'm still not tired of it. Literally listening to it on repeat, again and again. Panic! at the Disco isn't even my favorite music group (that honor belongs for Florence and the Machine, for the moment). Still this song has a driving pace, catchy melody, and it's...cathartic! I don't know how else to describe it. Every time I listen, it shows me a new reel of scene montages and inspiration comes! Enjoy.
The Twist at the Table
Every weekend for the past month or so, the mulleted husband DMs a Dungeons and Dragons (5th Edition) session for me, our friends, and their teenage kids. This man has always had a knack for unique description and storytelling, all colored with his particular brand of humor. This last weekend's session, the group is tracking a band of cultists, trying to find their hideout. We come to a dead end and have three paths we can follow.
Suddenly a hooded figure darts from the shadows, into the forest! I run after them, everybody runs after them! They lead us on a dungeon crawl through a maze of cavernous tunnels with giant centipedes, giant spiders, and crocodiles (regular sized). Finally, we catch up to this mystery figure, in front of a pair of massive doors. Our resident tanky Paladin charges in, determined to capture and interrogate the stranger! He grabs him and it's a pale kid, claiming they're late for something, and clutching a bag with a...character sheet?
The Paladin looks up, and there's booths set up and cosplayers walking around. We found an underground Comic-Con.
The Dreaded Wednesday
I used to love Wednesdays. They were the highlight of my week. When I was a kid, I'd drag all of my friends (the resident weird kids) to Youth Group at my church, and we had a good time. In high school, that tradition evolved into Swing Dancing night at a local Rec Center (same friends)! My fellow short friend had a special shirt she wore that we dubbed "The Wednesday Shirt" and it's still a running gag (and I think that shirt still fits her).
This week, Wednesday wanted revenge for something. All the odd, the grumpy, the, the mean parts of the world came out. I've worked customer service gigs for most of my life. I've worked an out of business sale where everything had to go, even the shelves. Nothing had as much nasty and exhaustion and slow as this Wednesday. And to top it off, I was alone that night because the mulleted husband had to work on something an hour and a half away. When I got home, I baked myself an entire dozen brown sugar cookies, gorged while binging Sailor Moon and Yu-Gi-Oh! reruns on Hulu, and crashed.
The next day, everything magically felt better, and the curse of the Wednesday had passed.
Brie Tart writes fantasies in which she draws the mythical from the mundane. She spends the rest of her time dabbling in languages and prepping for her next adventure.