Eight Memes A Week

Because every day is a day to share what day it is.

There’s no question that social media wants you to know what day it is. Like the pub with seven giant posters advertising a special for each day of the week, the joint forces on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and ??? have given us Man Crush Monday, Woman Crush Wednesday, Throwback Thursday AND Flashback/Follow Friday, plus probably some kind of Tuesday thing, too. Every day is a day to create, like, and share #content based on a refillable theme unique to that particular day. But also, every day is a day to share what day it is, because every day is a day.

Next time you are scrolling through Facebook, no matter what day it is, head over to a page like Heart Touching, I Love My Bestfriends, or Days,Weeks and Months and you can see, well, what day it is. Unlike your friends and family’s #TBT posts which connect the concept of Thursday with, say, baby pictures — or, if your friends think they are funny, a “goof” “take” on baby pictures — these “Just for Fun” or “Community” pages share, amidst earnest memes, inspirational GIFs, and prayerful videos, image macros that will tell you what day of the week is, all without you having to ask. Usually they do so through several blocks of stylistically conflicting word art superimposed on an illustration of flowers, nature, animals, popular cartoon characters, coffee, and/or chocolate. It’s earnest, saccharine, and makes it feels sorta like Valentine’s Day every day, even if it’s just Wednesday.

a fun note on this image: At the time of writing this, “sweetie.com” doesn’t appear to be in use. The link leads to a page to buy that domain for ~$500,000 USD

Many of these day meme-sharing pages are very gently religious, quoting Bible verses but never hitting you over the head with them. They really never give you with that much information at all, besides what day it is and also maybe what time of that day it is (which, depending on what part of the world you live in, may or may not be accurate).

The “about” section of each page provides little information. Heart Touching just simply, accurately describes itself as, “Good Morning,Day,Night,Quotes,Pictures And Videos,” while I Love My Bestfriends, which often posts from Singapore, links to the personal profile of someone named Esay Bonghanoy in the Philippines, which links to another page called Inspiring Love of Friendship as well as a profile called Lady Sweet, which ends the circle with a link back to I Love My Bestfriends. A lot of the other links in these pages’ bios are broken. Without a working link in bio, meme browsers can lend all their attention to learning and/or reflecting on what day it is. It’s kind of zen.

Last year during a pay-what-you-wish yoga class, I was horrified to realize that I really bought into this mantra the instructor was saying. It went, “[Breathe in] I am [Breathe out] okay.” Hauntingly comforted by it, I began repeating the phrase ad nauseam in my head, under my breath, and occasionally loud enough that a friend asked me to stop because I was being so corny. It’s embarrassing but grounding to remember that I am okay, in any particular moment, even when everything else isn’t. When I first started finding the day memes online, which started with intentional searches of “It’s [day of the week” on Google image search (search tools > type > animated), I would scroll through endless GIFs, my mind strangely at ease thanks to whatever complete stranger is putting the effort into these images. The Internet is wild and so much of it is bad. For me, looking at a rose that tells me to have a nice Thursday is a brief but welcome respite.

By now, every time I log into Facebook, my habits have made it so the site’s algorithms populate the “Suggested Pages” homepage sidebar almost exclusively with recommendations like Good Day To All, and Good Morning, Day, Night and Evening Quotes and Pictures. I never have to ask anyone what day it is because I already know. I haven’t been to yoga in months. Can I Get An Amen And Share.

Jenny Nelson lives and writes in Brooklyn.