Welcome to one of the most cherished days of the week! Friday; the day of promise and hope. Last weekend as I sat on my butt doing nothing on Saturday, I came to the conclusion that the best part of the weekend is Friday afternoon while you're still at work. You are there in the same workplace shackles you wore on Monday and Wednesday, but as tight as they may be , they can't squeeze the excitement out of you. Why? It's because they're coming off in a couple of hours, and you know it.
There's nothing the denizens of drudgery can do about it either...you're off for the weekend.
Yet as exciting as this is, knowing that you get to be free from work at the end of the day, it pales in comparison with the excitement that we feel about the possibilities that the weekend may hold.
We almost hit a state of childlike giddiness over the endless potential and fun that those two days are sure to hold! Oh, for joy! The weekend is here! THE WEEKEND IS HERE!
Alas, just like Christmas eve when you're seven, and the night before your sixteenth birthday all of these notions we hold about what the next day will have in store for us......are mostly delusions brought on by that remainder of fantastic imagination that still lives in us as adults. No, we didn't get the pony Christmas morning, and there are still only as many cars in the driveway as there were when you were 15 years and 364 days old.
The weekend is a tease created in our own minds which is desperate for a spark, a change, or even some measure of excitement.
It is in this state that many of us arrive at Saturday morning, only to see that upon a quick glance out the window, that the carnival is not in town, NASA's not asking you to be an astronaut, and the only way that you're going on a trip is if you sample those mushrooms you found while mowing the lawn, last weekend.
In our groggy haze we deal with our disappointment in a more efficient way than the child who simply throws a tantrum. We kill it with caffeine, and the day begins. Before we know it, it's 10:30 and the shimmering wonder that was the weekend only 24 hours ago has become a list of chores. Laundry, dishes, cleaning the box of poop your cat has left you in your own home, and finally taking down the damn Christmas decorations from outside the house.
It's only then with the fake pine boughs firmly in your grasp and the strands of lights are tripping your feet up, that you realize that you've been fooled again. We are like the lonely person who keeps getting used in relationships, the Weekend is the biggest user of us all. It promises us the world on Friday to get us to love it, and then leaves us all alone when we need it the most.
Fool me once, shame on you weekend.... fool me twice... aww dang it!