The alarm sounds its cries from somewhere on the nightstand next to me pulling me out of my sleep. Reaching for it, my hand fumbles for the source of the annoying tones that come from my cell phone that is my morning wake up. Going through the daily routine of trying to figure out what time I set it for and more importantly, what day it is then silencing the shrill. The bedroom falls silent again until a little voice comes for the side of the bed. “Daddy…I am thirsty. Can I have something to drink?” It is morning and time to start the day once again.
It is that time again. The one day of the week where everyone is jubilant of its implication that after you complete the monotony of your work day, you are free. The one day of the week that you actually are excited to get started. Not so you can accomplish anything but so that you can get it out of the way. Yes, it is Friday.
Maybe this goes back to our school days when Friday meant that you were free to do whatever for the next two and a half days. When the only thing you had to worry about was how many social activities you can cram into a short period. To me those days are long gone. They are a brief memory of a different life. These days, Friday mean errands to run, task to complete, school work to wrap up before the Sunday deadline. No longer is it two days of parties and freedom but two days that must contain a weeks worth of activities that will ultimately leave me more worn out then the preceding five days of the work week.
Please, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my weekends and all they bring but I no longer look to that elevated day of the week known as Friday as the holy grail of the calendar. It is just another day. Not much different that Tuesday or Wednesday. We have had such a love affair with Friday’s that we even have a restaurant named in its honor.
As we get older, our priorities change. We learn to fly from the nest of our parents with all the lessons they imparted on us and seek our new independence. Our first apartment means that we have to spend some of our time doing things to keep it and our laundry clean. We then progress to our first serious relationship, maybe the joys of home ownership. The weekend to do list starts to grow. The children enter and the Saturday nightlife exits. The weekly ritual now becomes monthly and before you know it, quarterly. Friday then loses it luster.
I say we retire the old TGIF mentality and move on to something a little bit more fitting. Maybe we can have “OH HELL it is Sunday night” or “Honey-Do Saturdays”. Let’s add some realism into our world. See things for what they really are. Let the 20-somethings rule the Friday evening cheers. I for one will not be singing its praises anymore.
Until next time…