Where did Wednesday go?

I am frequently struck by this thought (ouch - it is particularly painful when Wednesday comes in the shape of a sharp metallic instrument - A&E ed). It seems whole days can pass and by the end of the week you end up thinking what did I actually achieve this week?

Wednesday was a non-post day? Why? Failed with extended prevarication it seems. Had some tasks to do that could finally be no longer put off. So I guess, there is something positive to take from that, they're done!. But then reality comes into with a nasty real life update and soon there is another set of unpleasant tasks that need to be sorted!

It seems as fast as you empty the unpleasant task jar, someone is pouring more unpleasant tasks at the top of it (who are they, whey are they doing it and how can I make them stop it - ed).

Hmm, there must be another way of putting that. Let's see, maybe you could think of it in terms of a sewage works, a lot of effluent (and there was I thinking that you were going to use s*** - literary ed) comes in, it is cleaned up and sent on its way, but as soon as you have finished processing one job (tee hee - viz smut ed), yet more effluent arrives.

Is that what life is supposed to be about,? We are just more or less efficient effluent processors?

The aphorism that comes to mind is, "Life is a bitch, and then you die".

At least those with faith can go through life with the thought that if they live a 'Good Life' (goodbye Richard Briers and thanks for all the laughs - TV ed) then they will be rewarded with a wonderful 'afterlife'. Sad thing about that is, that if they really believe this and then fail the good life test, then they will go to whichever hell that their omnipotent one decides on. Now that doesn't seem something you would look forward to is it? So you would expect those with faith to be far and away the best  (in the sense of good) people on the planet. Why isn't that the case?

My view on this life issue is much much less constrained; we are here, we live for a time and then we die. I, for one, have no fear of death as it is appears to be simply a release from the endless job in the sewage works. We could argue that it would be a relief, but given the finality of death, and as the dead no longer see, hear, feel, think then there would be no relief, or remorse, as such, as life has stopped. What appears to be the case is that death is hardest on those left living. You have to agree that this seems more than a little unfair!