Comparisons...

If the week was a scorpion, Friday would be its stinging tail.

"I walked past a supermarket today." Friday spoke. He was standing in a toga, and held a very large goblet of wine in his left hand, that he sloshed around as he began his tale. The other weekdays were scattered about in various stages of repose on what appeared to be a Grecian hillside. They also wore togas. "The double automatic doors for some reason remained open for longer than normal, and that's when I saw the wasp (or hornet, yellowjacket, or whatever flying insect it was) which was inquisitive about the cool air, or perhaps the smells of the groceries held within the store, and it flew in about a foot, then back to the threshold, then back in, then back out."

"Wasps built a nest in the wheel well of my car once," Tuesday said, "It was a very unpleasant scene whenever I needed to go somewhere."

"Quiet you!" Said Thursday, "There's more...I'm sure."

Friday took a moment to finish a large gulp from the goblet, and continued. "Indeed there is, for as I walked on, I didn't see the conclusion of the drama that was playing out before me. Would the wasp be on the inside when the doors closed? Since if this happened, it the chances of it ever seeing the outside again would be very very small. But if it were shut out of the place, would it linger about, still trying to investigate the contents of the store?"

"A common enough quandary." Monday said, "Will your curiosity lead you into a realm of satisfaction and fulfillment, or will it trap you in a prison which will become your tomb!"

"Exactly." Friday said with authority, then he had another drink. "But this example of literally the luck of this poor bug, versus the chance function or malfunction of an automatic door which would determine his fate, made me think of another comparison."

"How much longer..." Wednesday said, propping his hunchback up against a large stone, "is this lecture going to last?"

"Not much..." replied Friday, "We're almost out of wine." And immediately after speaking those words he emptied the rest of his goblet, and walked over to a wineskin, and drained the rest of it into the vessel. "You see I was wondering about finding meaning. And I thought to myself, it's fine if you want to find meaning in things. Hell you can superimpose it on almost everything - a rabbits foot? Why not. Photographs, sure. In accomplishments one might have made - of course. However, trying to find meaning in everything, the unifying force of meaning between and in all things...well, that's different."

Tuesday spoke softly. "How is that different, exactly?"

"Well, if one might devote themselves to such a thing, is there any point in living in the material world? The experiences here are not transcendental. They may be life changing, or they might be boring as hell, and they might be repetitive to the point of madness, but they are real." He paused for a moment, had another sip of wine, and looked off to the hilltops above them where the sunset had made them a jagged black edge across a deep violet sky. "To search for meaning in everything is to find it nowhere, and to find meaning in one small thing, is to find it everywhere."

Friday sat down and drank the rest of his wine to the various grumbles of discontented weekdays. Finally Monday spoke up, louder than the rest.
"Hey, whatever...let's hit up the Parthenon, restock the wine, and race hovercraft!"

Happy Friday.



[just wanted to say I wanted to start with the line "if the week was a scorpion then Friday would be its stinging tail." And somehow get to the line "To search for meaning in everything is to find it nowhere, and to find meaning in one small thing, is to find it everywhere" Not sure how it played out, but it got there.
P.S., totally saw that wasp thing tho, it was kinda spooky once I thought about it. Kinda hope he got out ok, but that's not really our world, is it.]