Bang Bam Boom!

Upon retirement I began
looking back at my working years and I noticed that each day of my week had a special significance. The worst day was Monday. As a student, and later as a teacher, I was always sorry to see it arrive. The weekend, which I used to live for, was ending, and I would have to struggle through a hangover. Still, there were no lessons to be learned when the opportunity came to drink—party time reigned supreme. The best time was when a vacation week was sandwiched between two weekends. The first words back at work were, “Yes, it was too short.”