Friday Nights

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Some weeks it feels like it takes a month for Friday to arrive.

It certainly felt that way this week. I started the work week on Sunday so I was pretty wiped out by mid-week.

Struggled to catch up on sleep, battled the frigid 🥶 cold and survived a couple of zoom calls and a literal fistfight on one of the jobs.

Mid-way through the day I was hit by a stray thought:

“There’s a new Denzel movie!”

That helped.

Had a second stray thought:

“I should make macaroni salad.”

I make good macaroni salad. It teamed up perfect with roast beef sandwiches.

By 9 p.m., I was watching the movie with a belly full...

...and I was relaxed for the first time all week. 

The cat on top of the couch behind me. The dog at my feet.

The idea that I could stay in bed a little longer was a comforting thought.

48 hours of peace.

I considered all the Friday’s when I would hit happy hour, and then go out on Saturday night, and maybe even again on Sunday.

No such aspirations anymore.

Now it’s about resting.

“No drama.”

Denzel was great.

The Mac salad was better.

A good book and off to sleep. 

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