Drop by drop the snow pack dies, watering the arid lands below. |
It is Monday, August 19, 2013. I don't know what the prompt is for "Blogging Circle of Friends Prompt Forum" , therefore, I will write about Monday. You know its weird, but until I checked for that song I didn't remember it was The Mammas and The Papas who recorded it. I don't know who I thought recorded the song, I'm was sure it wasn't The Mammas and The Papas though. That just goes to show that memory isn't always right. Sometimes memory plays tricks on us human beings, which is the best reason I know for keeping a journal. Of course, if you keep a journal of you life events then you have to remember which year a specific event took place. If you have problems remembering the year then you are in trouble discussing what really happened to you on a specific day. A journal would not have helped me remember who recorded Monday, Monday because I can't remember the year it was released or where I first heard it. Besides I was not into journaling or blogging or anything else that came close to those two terms. I think the only thing that interested me at that time was surviving either junior high or high school. I also had issues with spelling, which I still confront today, but that is a different blog entry. Monday Memories I always liked the blues, but Monday's not my favorite day, so I think the color of Monday should be changed to red the color of danger. Growing up Monday meant I had to go back to school and grade school wasn't my favorite place; I don't think I liked junior high or high school any better. I have some fond memories of grade school, junior high, and high school; I also have some nightmare memories of those years. As I grow older, the fond memories are becoming clearer, while the nightmares remain the same. The nightmare memories are Monday memories even though I am sure the all didn't occur on Monday. The fond memories are Saturday or Sunday memories because the weekends of my childhood were seldom nightmares or seldom boring, Nightmare or boring are memories I associate with my school day. |