Friday

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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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