Friday, not without its own demands.

Friday, the most glorious day, the reward for lasting through the week. Of all the days this has to be number two, following only Saturday in joyfulness.  But, it is not without it's dark secrets, too. Don't be fooled by the approaching bliss of two days of freedom, Friday has demands, and they are not negotiable.

Friday starts with an that most foul demon child of technology an alarm clock. Oh, the agony this device has caused in my life, the dreams it has destroyed, the indescribable suffering provided by this loathsome little devil, intractable, and unrelenting, is too painful to contemplate. It is no way for a polite, civilized people, like us, to start a day.

Further, it is so delightfully close to the weekend, but it is still the work week. And employers still, in all their self righteous, check writing, responsibility delegating dictatorial manifest obsession with productivity, expect you to do something. There are liable to be limits on the celebration, rules, dress codes, guides of conduct and behavior, to be followed in minute attention to detail.

Traffic is probably more dangerous on Friday. With the trauma of a weeks frustration and anger weighing heavy on commuters they are hell bent to get to work, a little early, so they can leave work,
a little early. Of course they are not willing to leave home a little early for the privilege. They are willing to drive faster, cut closer, risk theirs and others lives, for a few minutes of early weekend bliss. So, be careful, as bad as it was getting to work, it will be homicidal getting home.

But, hey, it is Friday, and that is good enough for me. I am going to talk to Bil for a while, and get some coffee, then microwave a burrito, and grab a bottle of water, and stop in and see how John is doing, and then maybe go to lunch, and check up on Steve, Brian, and Shirley. After a full day like that I may cut out a bit early. I am tired, but it is a good sort of tired.