Thursday, 10 February 2011

The Thursday Curse

A and I have been arguing again. We were fully concious that we had a high probability of arguing but somehow we ended up doing it anyway. We even laughed about how we were going to argue. In fact it's a running joke now that we will end up having a spat on Thursday.

A came in triumphantly one evening after having read a piece of research that said that 8 pm Thursday evening  is the worst time for couples' arguments. For us, actually, the time of the argument will be somewhere between 9-10pm. However we felt that was insignificant given that we don't get back from work until past 8.

So what is it about Thursday that makes it so uniquely favourable to bad moods and bickering? Well, I put it down to the confluence of the constellation of Thursday teens and the planet "Annozero," ruling planet of televised fervent political debate.

My sweet colleague cackles with glee as she wishes me "Happy Thursday!", (schadenfreude is not only for the Germans), partially because I like Wednesdays and she doesn't, and partially because the look of doom on my face must be amusing. While I don't find Thursdays as odious as I did at the beginning of the year, I still couldn't say that I bounce into work with as much enthusiasm as I would like. 

I normally come home feeling a bit frazzled and in need of hot tea and relaxation, which is why it is probably very unfortunate that it coincides with A's favourite programme of the week, which equally unfortunately stresses me out. Every week they discuss Berlusconi and every week there is a lot of incomprehensible shouting, angry music and futile debate. People are invited because they are either really pro Mr B and prepared to say on national TV they would send their own daughters to one of his parties, or they are anti-Berlusconi, but can't be heard because the others are shouting so much, or they are communists and anarchists making provocative statements for the hell of it.

I can't follow the show, because of the cacophony of voices, but it's got vibes of Jeremy Kyle meets Jeremy Paxman. To add insult to my injured ears, A insists I happily sit next to him while he watches this show. (Sorry A, I know you love the show, but if you watch it, I have to be allowed unwind in a different room).

So if you were planning on having an aperitivo Thursday evening or going out for pizza, or even just wanting a chat, let me know, and help us save us from ourselves.

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