Ahh Friday, oh how I use to love thee. Now, all that I can expect on Friday is a nice heaping of panic attack as I realize that the two days break isn't nearly enough time to get what I need to get done. And I never seem to get what I need to get done over the weekend anyhow, so inevitably that spills over into the week and rinse, cycle and repeat. Oh Friday, how I use to plan my week around the pleasures that this day brings......now, all I really want is a hot shower a nice book and some peace and quiet. Is it a sign of getting older or simply hibernation. I would take the humbling solace of either as my brain gets overwhelmed with the logistics of the day. Friday seems like the kind of day where nothing planed turns out exactly to plan and I'm usually tired from the hustle and bustle of the week that my patience level goes to nil.
Friday, I really don't have anything against you, but can't figure out where we went so wrong. Why can't anything ever be easy and effort free. Where is the peace of mind in knowing I have crossed the finish line? do you really hate me that much. I mean if you do its perfectly fine cause I'm not very fond of you either. But today I propose a truce of some kind. I mean we can't go on being mad at each other forever. I guess until then, we shall retreat into our corners until we can come to some type of arrangement, but I remember happier days when we use to hang out and play ball, go to the beach, or see a concert.
Oh Friday, I remember many a day knocking on Saturday's door in the wee hours of the morning still holding onto your memory. Reeling from the excitement and the wonder that you brought me. Basking in the bewilderment of the afterglow. But now, I couldn't be bothered with your demanding demeanor. And you have become a complete stranger to Saturday, who still to this day, has been the only day to provide me comfort and relaxation. Ohh well, as we live we shall learn and maybe one day we can find joy in each other once again. Until then, Friday, I officially hate your guts.
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