What I Learned On A Thursday.
Thursdays and I did not get along in 2023.
It became a running joke I did not find funny. Trouble kept circling the calendar and landing on that one day. In the spring a driver hit my car and kept going. In the winter it happened again. Different Thursday, same story, another driver not paying attention, another mess to sort out. I walked away both times. The car did not. A nearby store’s security cameras caught the second crash and proved I was not at fault. I bought a dash cam after that, and it has already paid for itself. Small lesson, learned the hard way.
The last Thursday of the year arrived with teeth. I was walking my dog before sunrise when two strays rushed us. It was chaos in the dark. We yelled for help. A neighbor heard, came outside, and stood with us while we called the police and animal control. I ended up with a broken finger. My dog had bites and scrapes that were mercifully shallow. We healed. The aftershocks lingered. She startles now when an off leash dog barrels our way. I carry bear spray on morning walks so I can create space if I have to. Another lesson, learned the hard way.
There were smaller hits too. One Thursday I misjudged the slope of a pool, went for a clean push off, and met the bottom with my face. A smashed nose has a way of clarifying the limits of optimism. I swim less now and pay closer attention to depth markers. Add that to the list of things I thought I knew and now truly respect.
Another Thursday offered a different kind of jolt. I waited with my dog at a crosswalk, watched the signal turn green, and stepped out. Two cars from opposite directions ran their red lights while we were in the lane. We nearly got hit twice in seconds. I no longer trust that signal on that street. I watch the traffic itself, wait for a real gap, and cross when it is clearly safe. The light can say what it wants. My eyes and judgment matter more.
I could list a few more Thursday mishaps if I could remember them all. Each one felt like a finger on my shoulder trying to push me off balance. The pattern was odd enough to notice and annoying enough to tempt a person into superstition. But the truth is simpler. Life does not arrange itself to suit our plans. Some years bring tidy progress. Some years bring practice. In 2023 I practiced getting up, filing reports, calling the vet, thanking a neighbor, booking a body shop, and breathing through the spike of adrenaline when a loose dog appears at the end of a street.
Perseverance is not glamorous. It is the quiet decision to keep moving toward the life you want while you make your present a little safer and a little smarter. Buy the dash cam. Carry the spray. Walk a brighter route. Learn where the pool rises. Look both ways even when the walk sign glows. Accept that you cannot control everything and refuse to surrender the things you can. Let your plan flex. Let your pride soften. Keep your word to yourself that you will try again tomorrow.
I will not pretend those Thursdays did not rattle me. They did. They also reminded me that agency is built from small adjustments. The tools you keep in the car. The hour you choose to walk. The way you scan a block and decide to cross early. The habit of texting a quick update so the people who care about you know you made it home. None of that prevents every hit. It does keep you moving. It also teaches you patience for others who carry their own jumpy dogs and repaired noses and dented fenders through the week.
If this sounds familiar, I hope you take a step that makes your next Thursday a little kinder. Change one thing you can change. Thank one stranger who helps. Laugh once if you can. And if the day swings on you again, let it pass, do the paperwork, and keep going. The calendar will turn. So will you.
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