Thursday? Oh No–It’s Too Gruesome.

Thursday? Oh No–It’s Too Gruesome. May 30, 2013

I really do think that Truman Capote was pretty brilliant, even if his latter years were embarrassing and even if he was an ungraciously jealous friend to Harper Lee, and the novella Breakfast at Tiffany’s is just…something. My favorite Capote piece is actually “A Christmas Memory” (if you haven’t read it, you should. With a hankie handy.) but Tiffany’s has something in it that I love, something that the Hollywood version totally erases. I’m not going to give it away, so you’ll just have to get it from the library or download it or whatever people do these days when they want to read a book.

(Random side note: Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s Hyde Park mansion had something like 5,000 leatherbound volumes in the sitting room. I can’t decide if I’m jealous of that or simply grateful that I’m not the housemaid who had to dust and tend all those.)

The movie adaptation of Breakfast at Tiffany’s is lovely in its own way as well, and I can still make my dad laugh with my Audrey Hepburn impression. (“If I ever find a real, live place that makes me feel like Tiffany’s, why, I’ll buy some furniture, and! Give the cat a name!”) The film does have a choppy, episodic feel, but one of the episodes I love is when Holly Golightly awakes suddenly, realizing she’s late for her weekly visit to a mob boss at Sing Sing, and she says something like:

“Thursday! Oh no, it’s too gruesome!”

and then she goes on to say that the thing about Thursday is that she can never remember when it’s coming up. That’s how I feel about Thursday. It’s just odd. I’ve never liked it, and I never seem to remember when it’s coming up, and I don’t even know why that is or why I don’t like it. Last week a friend posted on Facebook that she generally hated Thursdays, and I was surprised by how, when I come to think of it, Thursdays do, generally speaking, are not my happiest days.

Image via Wikipedia; used under CC license.
Image via Wikipedia; used under CC license.

Why could that be? Is it a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Do you have a day of the week that isn’t your favorite, for whatever reason? Or have you figured out a secret for being happy no matter what day it is?

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