Friday
It seems to take a month for Friday to arrive.
I had a really early start on Thursday and after doing my Ace Ventura morning dance with two dogs who hate one another and a cat who insists on going outside, I started the car and couldn’t believe that there was a sheet of ice on the windshield.
Then the guy who sets our tee time each week sent a text that said:
“I can’t believe that I didn’t set a time for this weekend.”
I wrote back:
“That’s bullshit!”
But…
…back to Friday.
The five-day work week can be eternal some weeks.
I had a couple of long training sessions and a few big jobs that spent more time than usual.
“Monday when the foreman calls time, I already got Friday on my mind.”
And it’s a better than an ordinary Friday because it’s pay day.
“The eagle shits today,” an old laborer partner used to say about pay days.
Through my 20’s and 30’s I would run off the job and head to happy hour.
“You stopping for one?”
That often turned into way more than one.
Now?
“Hopefully it’s a quiet weekend,” is often the rallying cry.
The Bills have a home game.
Halloween…
…which means little anymore.
We haven’t had a trick-or-treater knock on our door in years.
But let’s not worry about that right now!
‘Cause it’s Friday!
Time to celebrate…
…sleep, a movie or two, and staring at my golf clubs as ice forms all around.
It’ll be Monday before we know it.
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