Friday, time for a cease fire.

Friday is victory, the battles of the week are over, today is a victory lap.  Yes, there were close calls, and narrow escapes, terrifying confrontations with belligerent Visigoths from the customer service department,(note to self, send a diplomatic envoy to R and D to convey good will, and express a desire to sign a non aggression treaty, and hammer the telephone center with small arms fire from both sides, a good non aggression pact can allow for some real aggression) but that is past, and the cusp of the weekend has arrived.

There are few things in life more precious than Friday, so relish the day, and don't even think about the unrest fomenting in the Mail room, it is a nothing when compared to the liberty of a two days off. Maybe, on Monday, we should think about aligning ourselves with the accounts payable department, they send a lot of mail, and that would be a good way to plant a spy in the mail room, find and exploit the weaknesses.  There is a rumor making the rounds that the folder inserter operator collects salt and pepper shakers in the shape of biblical characters. We might be able to use that to get a little dirt on the supervisor.

It will be so nice to walk out tonight, savoring the aroma of emancipation, knowing that the barbecue tongs are clean, the lawn is mowed, and there are steaks in the refrigerator.  There are few parallels in the modern world, to compare with the elation of Friday.  Don't even think about those Vandals from the legal department snooping around in the hallway, pretending they dropped a push pin and rolled all the way down to your department. Just make sure you didn't throw anything incriminating in the trash. What I like to do is cross out my name and throw it in the waste basket down in the custodial workroom. Don't let them catch you loitering around down there, though, mop handles and broom sticks leave welts and some scars that can't be seen and will never heal.

We are planning to post snipers in the hallway next week in an effort to stop the infiltrators from QC
who keep coming down here to plant booby traps in the coffee machine. Last week, Janet's "World's Greatest Administrative Assistant" mug blew up when she poured in the aerated non-dairy creamer. She was heartbroken. Of course, it didn't really bother anybody else, because nobody really believed she was the "greatest administrative assistant" in the world. Many of us couldn't find proof that she was an administrative assistant at all. But, she did spend 9.95 plus tax on the mug. If anybody knows where we can lay on hands on light artillery pieces we would be grateful.

I feel like I should leave you with a little wisdom, some gem to help you gird up your loins for next week. God knows, any week that starts with a Monday is likely to get bad, before it goes completely dark. Maybe the quote from William Tecumseh Sherman is most appropriate, business "is cruelty. There is no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over."  Oh, and don't forget, performance evaluations are due next Thursday, and there will be cake in the lunch room Monday to celebrate Mother's Day.

Weekends, coffee and the beast within.

Today is Friday. It is kind of a big deal to me. Though, most days my job is so easy and I like it so much the only real difference is the alarm clock and the coffee maker. Even when I wake up early on the weekend, a disturbing event that happens with increasing regularity, it isn't to the braying, intrusive sound of the alarm clock. And I have more choices in coffee. It makes for a pleasant start to a day.

Neither are without danger, though. Right now, for example, I am being stalked by a wild animal. Oh, he is a wily one, that one.

One time, without warning, he took the cookie right out our shipping guy's hand. Unless you count the jumping, and bouncing and attempting to grab the cookie out of his hand as a warning.

Occasionally, without provocation he will just get up and move to a spot of the floor where the sun's rays are shining through, spreading warmth, and a feeling of well being. You really have to be on your toes.  It's a jungle around here.

And if you are a cardboard box you might as well not make any plans for the future.

So, today is my kind of day. Tomorrow is my kind of day, too. Both of them come complete with my kind of coffee, because I am not really all that fussy. About my days,or my coffee.

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.

A quick trip back in time, sort of.

Since it is Friday and nobody wants to spend a lot of time reading, or watching a video, or thinking about anything important, particularly if it seems like the whole world has the day off except the loyal hard working scientists, engineers and research associates here at Life Explained Ohio, we present to you the Columbus Auto Show in 53 (approximately) seconds. Plus a picture of a very macho truck.

Saturday, My Old Friend.

Saturday, a blessed relief after the week we have had, here at Life Explained Ohio. Everything that could go wrong did, and things that should have been easy were hellish. But, we made it through, and only lost a few associates.

Monday we had a disaster in the kitchen. Bob, from applied sciences, was microwaving a plate of fish and chips, leftovers from his big night out. Robert, from accounts payable, wanted to throw in his corned beef and cabbage, he isn't really Irish, but he starts celebrating Saint Patrick's Day early and keeps it up until April. Green clothes, green food coloring in his water, stupid "top o' the mornin' to you" every day, for over a month. We have discussed caving his skull in with a shillelagh several times. But we are pretty peaceful and the custodial staff would explode, they are still fuming over the mess we made when we accidentally melted the alien in the elevator, but that is another story.

Anyway, Robert (we are supposed to call him Patty this month) asked if he could throw his food in with Bob's food, and since we are so kind, polite and accommodating he said "of course."

At the same time there was a small accident in the electronics, and computer lab. A blast of animation energy was released through the electrical system. It hit the microwave first, and the Irish dish started fighting the English dish in a historic battle for liberation.

The foods and drinks in the refrigerator were so inspired by the patriotic fervor and quickly turned on each other. Soft drinks spilled all over pizza, fruits and vegetables were locked in battles to the death.

Most of the people got out, they did not need a PhD (but most of them had one) to know what was coming next. The food and drinks started turning on the people who were going to eat and drink. Soon, the whole building was overrun with angry food, blood thirsty drinks.

We managed to stabilize our position in the first floor lavatory, and launch a counter offensive on
Tuesday. It was a hard fought battle, but by Thursday night we had managed to claim the high ground, and the fire hose. We rounded up the food, threw it in several large pots and made some of the worst tasting and uncomfortable stews ever imagined.

Monday we are going to have to give the custodians a raise to get them to come back, and we are going to give the electronics lab a dedicated and independent power supply. And see if the US military is interested in using animated food to quell local insurgents.

Monday is coming, you can handle it.

Monday is coming, a treasure of agony and pain. But, we need to face it with a unified front. Stand fast against the tyranny of the work week. Don't show weakness, Monday senses fear. 

Here is the plan, just get up when the alarm goes off, you can hit the snooze button once, make every effort to not hit it twice. Whatever you do, don't smash your alarm clock with a hammer. This is particularly true if you use your smart phone to wake you. Monday will only grow stronger watching you weep openly over the loss of a beloved electronic member of the family.

Drink your coffee with a smile. If possible drink it without cream and sugar, you don't need the extra calories to slow you down. Mobility is the key. If Monday gets you trapped in a corner, and starts hammering away at your soft, creamy, sugar filled mid section... well lets just say you don't know what will happen then.

Hop in your car, listen to something that will make you forget your troubles. Maybe some music, it might be a good idea to make a playlist tonight. Or pick a pod cast. Something that will take your mind off driving and the driving of others, something immersive, and consuming. Well, not completely off driving, you still need to pay attention to where you are going. Once, while listening to Time Out Of Mind by Dylan I drove past my exit, past the city limits, and ended up in Dayton. Thank goodness Highlands isn't any longer or I might have ended up in Indianapolis. Oh, Monday would have loved that.

Then at work, smile politely, nod appropriately, and do as little as possible. Activity is the breeding ground for mistakes. A miscue is almost impossible taking a nap in the boiler room, on the boxes of furnace filters stacked behind the lift apparatus, all toasty, warm, and comfortable.* Monday thrives on typos, errors, and malfunctions. Don't feed the beast.

Monday is coming, there is nothing we can do about it. But, preparation is key. There is no reason you should not be ready, Monday is brazen, it doesn't even try to hide its arrival, taunting you with the coming torment. But, you can be ready, we will help.

*Not that I would know anything about that.

Monday, and the week begins, but it could have ended.

Monday is not normally a very good day here, at Life Explained. Everybody is either cranky and irritable about being back at work, or euphoric about the wonderful weekend they just experienced. A toxic, volatile combination.

Since it so difficult to make people who are so angry feel happy again, we tried, we decided it would be much simpler to make everybody angry.

Step number one, we transferred the weekend janitorial staff to Monday security. They are drunk with power and harass everybody. Plus the offices are a mess, and trash is everywhere.

It worked pretty well, too. Unfortunately, it made the already mad people even madder. So we now had an army of homicidal workers bent on retribution versus an force of people who felt pretty good, and had the rug pulled out from under them. Believe it or not they were more dangerous.  Feelings of betrayal drive a very a passionate response.

We were stuck in the Executive Kitchen, and at the east door, were a group of furious employees, banging and pounding and screaming for blood. On the west side a contingent of outraged, uncontrollably violent associates who screaming for revenge.

It was a terrifying situation. Splintering doors, and smashed barricades, pushing closer and closer to the center of the room. It looked bleak, and we were making ready to initiate the "final protocol."



If it hadn't been for bell signaling the morning break we may have had to destroy the planet. After morning coffee and some sweet rolls everybody was ready for the work week. Smiling, whistling and ready to sav2e the world, in their own manner.

Wednesday, It Isn't Weekend, But It Isn't Monday, Either.

Today is Wednesday, and that means something here at Life Explained. It means the week is half over, and we have put the bad days (Monday and Tuesday) behind us. Monday stinks, positively reeks, you are faced with the prospect of 5 grueling days of toil, and labor, with no hope of escape. Tuesday is Monday without all of the pleasant afterglow of the weekend, so Tuesday is pretty smelly as well. But, Wednesday, that is a different beast.

Wednesday, the antechamber to the weekend. On Wednesday the coffee is a little crisper, and the air is a little cleaner. If you look hard enough you can see the weekend "ship of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free"* steaming in to your rescue. We love Wednesday. Too bad it only comes once a week, and we have to suffer through the hardships of the early week to get there.

One fine day, as we were drinking the tasteless, tepid coffee of a Monday, and trying to choke down the bagels of an oppressive work week, Bob, from R and D burst into the kitchen. Shaking with an excitement not normally seen until at least noon on Thursday, he said "I have solved our early week issues!"

"I have taken the digital clock from the rec room, wired it to the reactor core in the sub basement, and ran the whole thing through the time clock. Every Monday when the clock hits 9:00 AM, the whole company will shift to Wednesday, at 11:00."

"Why Wednesday, and why 11:00 AM?" Someone asked. The question was sincere, but the happiness at the prospect of skipping Monday and Tuesday was noticeable in the voice.

"I chose Wednesday, so we could have time to plan for the weekend, and 11:00 so we would have time to plan for lunch." That made perfect sense.

Everybody started scurrying around to account for the important things, like cancelling any vacation requests they had for Monday or Tuesday. No point in wasting them. And the coffee was tasting smooth.

Time travel, even in short, repetitive bursts, is tricky. Have you ever recorded a macro in Excel and thought it was beautiful. Taking the contents of several scattered cells, summing them and placing the total in a separate sheet, adding a touch of formatting for flair, and then printing it out. Life would be so much easier. Only you forgot to click the little "relative cell reference" box. Every time you ran the macro it added the same numbers from the same cells, making you and your computer look like complete morons. Time Travel can be like that.

So Monday, at 9:00 we moved to Wednesday at 11:00 and feasted. Using all of the lunch money we had saved from Monday and Tuesday to really make pigs of ourselves.  Then on Thursday, at 9;00 we ended on Wednesday, (the day before, not the next week, we think) at 11:00! This really screwed up a lot of vacation plans.

So, we disabled the digital clock, and the time clock, and our big plans, and suffer through the painful, dreadful days of the start of the work week. We gave Bob a little bonus for trying, but revoked his rec room privileges, he cost us a digital clock, after al;t
.

*From "Caribbean Wind" by Bob Dylan, Dr, Dawg says give it a listen.

Monday, time to get serious.

Monday, the day that starts the week. It is time to roll up the sleeves, and get to work. Shoulder to the wheel, nose to the grindstone, and all.  Though, most of us no longer have to put our shoulder to a wheel, wheel turning is probably almost completely automated these days. What kind of job requires an associate to put his nose to a grindstone, though? That sounds awful! There must be an amazing compensation package for anybody to accept that position. It has to be a very short career.

Anyway, the work week is here, and it is time to start getting serious, no more messing around.  In the words of David Byrne of the Talking Heads;

"This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
This ain't no fooling around,
No time for dancin' or lovey dovey,
I ain't got time for that now."

Now is the time to start planning for next weekend.  There are only five days left, and you can't waste a minute. Before you know it Saturday will be here, and you will be adrift in a weekend without an itinerary, or as we, here at Life Explained, like to say, "up relaxation creek without a paddle, like an idiot," or something like that.

Time is wasting, man, (here, I am using the term "man" as a neutral, all inclusive designation that encompassing all people, men, women, aliens, supernatural beings, anybody who needs to start thinking about the coming weekend) you don't want to get left behind. Put down the phone, drop the pen, let go of the mouse, or keyboard, or pen like stylus, and start thinking about the glory that awaits in only 4 days 4 hours, 17 minutes, and 29 seconds, approximately.

One thing on which most relaxation experts, and we have a whole staff of them, agree, "don't try to take on too much on the weekend," Try to keep it simple, something achievable, something that will allow the building of self esteem, like watching a movie on television.  Plan a little break in there, so you are not overwhelmed, you're not superman, after all.  Safety first, that is our motto.

Friday, Explained

Today is Friday, a day many feel embodies the noble spirit of mankind.  A day many feel the paragon of the virtues of humanity.  A day many feel shows the ultimate evolution of the race.  Lofty ideals no doubt, but Life Explained needs proof.  Sending the finest vocational anthropologists available into a medium sized company, in a moderately sized city, in a region often used to test market food and drink products before national release seemed like a good way to test "The Theory of the Friday Pinnacle."

Walking carefully down the drab, brown halls of the work place, our steps almost silent on the low pile, tan carpet, (a color whose only purpose is to hide stains and wear, tragically, this is accomplished by making the whole thing look worn and dirty) Monday morning at 10:47.  A tomb like silence was broken only by muffled curses, and soft weeping.  People dashed into offices, meeting rooms, bathrooms, closets, slamming the doors, diving under desks, just to avoid conversation.   Eye contact was avoided, not only with the scientists but with the other members of the office tribe.

Fear, and trepidation were palpable.  Obviously, this was a society in decline, once proud, and profitable, you could tell by the smart phones, and tablets abandoned in terror, as individual tribe members would smash through a glass wall, dive under a wood grain conference table, and cower in abject fear.  Suffering visibly, the scene was almost over powering.  Work was not getting done at all, ringing phones went unanswered as these poor souls, squatted, half hidden behind the wax plants scattered conveniently around the building.  All of the windows were covered, blinds, or curtains closed tightly against the antiseptic sunshine and warmth.  It was a tragic scene.

Tuesday, bought the glimmer of a smile, the spark of acceptance, with the braver members of the tribe actually peaking out from the bathroom stalls.  Rushing up to touch the researchers, and running, quickly away, a sound, perhaps a guttural giggling, could be heard as they rushed away.   Work was, for the most part, ignored, as boundaries were tested, and tribe members were striving for dominance.  Mostly using games of skill, involving expense reports, or purchase orders, wadded into tight, almost symmetrical balls, heaved at distant waste baskets.  Winners took the chairs with the nicest casters, wheeling themselves down the hall, just out of reach of the research team's scientific equipment.

Wednesday, the change was significant.  With the indigenous people gathering, in small groups of trusted friends at the coffee maker, microwave, or refrigerator.  Darting eyes were proof that the tragedy of Monday's alarm clock was not forgotten.  Work was largely left for later, the new found freedom was intoxicating.   Monday is still remembered, but the nature of the ecosystem has changed.  Boisterous, if embarrassed  laughter rings down the halls, echoing down hallways, and off cubicle walls.

By Friday things start looking like a tailgate party.  Tribe members were actually lighting fires under the feeder tray of the fax machine to grill brats and burgers.  There seemed to be an unwritten rule about the cooking of fish, and whispered tales of the terrible death, and dismemberment of a poor fool who had tried to blacken tuna steaks.  Of course, no work was done, and the celebrants were dancing a tribal dance down the central hallway.  A line of happy, joyful people, ignoring phone calls, and emails, intent on making the most of the moment, and plans for the coming weekend.  Electricity filled the air, the tyranny of week days were almost at an end, and the tribe was "bustin' a move."

It was a sight to be remembered, smiling, laughing people, in a long line weaving in time through the building, in one door, out the next, texting, emailing plans, "meet me at Phil's House o' Burgers for a beer," without losing their place in line.  Distant drums pounding time, a hypnotic beat driving a mesmerizing scene.

And, we have the weekend, two days of liberation,  But, following that, Monday.  But, Friday is coming, hold on to that thought.

Making Work More Manageable One Day at a Time.

As the weekend nears, and life begins to take a happier turn, and a little skip finds its way into your step, and a happy, little whistle begins to follow you down the rigorous paths of your workday don't forget to take a moment and think of all of the things that need to be done next Monday.

Remember, it is your job, and the work involved, that really make the weekend seem so special.  So think for a few minutes about all of the toil, and labor waiting for you when you get to work.  Remember the phone calls, or data entry, or order filling, or patient care, think of all the filing, pulling, pushing and shoving, and customer service rat race that is just on the other side of the two day heaven that is so close you can smell the freedom.

Take a few moments, and think about the best way to allocate your time.  Set goals, and plan steps to meet them, remember that tasks are much easier to manage if broken down into small, easily achieved steps.  Making a list is a great idea.  Lists are great, like this;

Together we can do anything
Want a cup of Coffee?

Large Difficult Goal!

1. Small, manageable step.
2. Next step, hey this is great.
3. Another step.
4. Doing so well, taking a coffee break.
5. Stop and talk to Bob about the football game.
6. Donuts in the kitchen, great!
7. Well, what the heck, almost lunch time
8. Great article on the internet about spiders, check it out
9. Oh crap, forgot to order new earbuds, might as well compare a few styles.
10. You know, Bob is an idiot, go talk to Ted about football game.
11. Thirst overpowering go to vending machine, buy Coke.  
12. Go tell Bob, Ted thinks he is an idiot.
13. Almost time to go home, no point starting anything now.
14. If you're not going to start anything, might as well split.
15. See you tomorrow, 

See, now that you have a plan the weekend will be much more enjoyable.  You're welcome.

Weekends, a nice place to visit.

"Summer days and the summer nights are gone,
Summer days and the summer nights are gone,
I know a place where there's still something going on."

Ah, Dylan you are still the man.  And last weekend those lyrics were so appropriate.  We (my wife and I) were invited to a party.  It may not seem impressive, but we do not get invited to many things, so it was kind of a big deal.  And we had a good time.  Our friend Susan always has great parties, lots of food, including spicy chicken bratwurst, which were amazingly good, and my wife tells me contain a lot less fat.  Lots of laughter, joking and reminiscing, of course it was kind of a voyeuristic pleasure since the memories so cherished were from other lives, but it is almost too easy for me to get swept up in happy, cheerful tales of indulgent youth.  Good music, there was a lot of music from my childhood, Credence Clearwater Revival, and I am sure I heard Mr Soul by Buffalo Springfield, and who doesn't love a song that explains modern life in such vivid detail.  "Stick around while the clown who is sick does the trick of disaster."

"Everybody get ready - lift up your glasses and sing,
Everybody get ready to lift up you glasses and sing
I'm standing on the table, I'm proposing a toast to the King"

We left the party in time to get home and buy our sons a pizza, and rent a movie ("hey, Mom what credit card do you want me to put it on?"  "How about yours, your highness".  "Muppets; Most Wanted."  A great movie with appearances by several well known stars, including Frank Langella as a Vicar, Salma Hayek, as Salma Hayek, and Usher, the hip hop star, in a surprising twist, as an usher.  My favorite part was (not a spoiler alert) when Evil Kermit, (yes, evil Kermit, the frog desperado) tells the muppets that Fozzie bear quit the Muppets, and one of the Muppets asked excitedly "you can quit the Muppets?"  As a movie it had it all, action, song and dance, prison escapes, explosions, and Muppets, who could ask for more.  Which brings me to my next point.

When my sons were younger they would never watch "A Muppet Christmas Carol" with me, I love that movie.  A classic tale of reformation, with Muppets.  Life makes little sense.  Which brings me to my last point.

While driving to work this morning I saw three school buses lined up side by side at a stop light this morning,  They had just turned onto an important street in this town, one with three lanes in each direction, and a turn lane.  And, they were lined up side by side, waiting for the light to turn green.  Naturally, as a normal human being I couldn't help but pick one that I thought would win the race to the next light.  I chose the one in the middle.  It was too hard to pick right or left that early in the morning, and middle seemed safe.  Unfortunately, the middle bus came in last, the one on the right was the clear winner.  I cursed the driver of the middle bus, and went on my to work.  I am used to picking the wrong horse in almost any race, it is kind of a gift.

Until next time, when you will see a video history of our company, (with video, still pictures, titles, transitions, and musical background) in no particular order if I get it done, keep your head down, stay frosty, and vote for Dr. Dawg it is your only hope.

Hey, Friday is closer than you thought.

Since Memorial Day is so close and the week has been so hectic we, here at Life Explained, have decided it would be in the best interest of all of humanity cancel Thursday this week.

Sure, many of the Geochronologists felt it would be much better to just postpone Thursday until next week, feeling that eliminating a whole twenty four hour cycle could have catastrophic effects, possibly destroying the frail fabric of space time.  They warned that it could cause such rifts in our universe that it could shatter worlds, and "tear asunder the universe to such a point that the entire history of all that ever was would be wiped clean, and we would have rebooted time itself."

Maybe, and that could be bad, but Friday, and a three day weekend would be here one day earlier and that is worth a roll of the dice.

Of course, they reminded us of that incident when we traveled back in time to add another spoonful of coffee grounds to the pot we had just brewed, it was so weak it was practically undrinkable.  They were all worried about toying with events that had already happened.  Sure, the kitchen was destroyed by the monster that sprung from the anomaly in the coffee container from having beans taken so abruptly "out of time sequence," but, nobody died, sure some people are still missing, but nobody even remembers their names anymore.  Yes, the monster is still loose, and that might be a problem, but the kitchen is remodeled, better than ever, and that coffee was fantastic.

Obviously, this is not without risk, and we need to remember the consequences, but, Friday only comes once a week, and it always seems to be so slow in arriving.  And, three day weekends are so rare, and precious that a little risk is worth the reward.  If it works, we will see you tomorrow, on Friday, if not, well it has been fun, and we are sorry we brought such an abrupt end to all of creation.

The Weekend, What Life is About.

At long last it is Friday.  Friday,a gift from the heavens, a reward for having survived the week, and we did, but it was not always easy, there were a few bumps along the way, no week worth living through will allow unfettered passage.

Monday, there was snow, it had piled up, over the weekend, and it was a white curse, deep, imposing and dreadful.  Sunday, I dug out the driveway, and the sidewalk.  It was not easy, and it gave me an elevated sense self worth.  There was so much snow many of our neighbors had just left it, waiting for the inevitable central Ohio rain to come and wash it all away (coming tomorrow, coincidentally).  Monday, while I was at work the snow plow came through our neighborhood, and while clearing the streets by pushing the snow to the side of the road, managed to bury the entrance to our driveway under a cold, compressed barrier of snow.   Turning it dark, and dingy, and compacted into a substance a little like concrete, immovable, unbreakable, and, awful.  It is still there, taking its toll on our suspension, tires, and patience.

To combat snow the city sends plows to push the snow out of the way, and dump "road salt" all over the freeways, and thank goodness for that, there are enough videos showing cars spinning out of control and slamming into things already.  Nobody wants their 15 minutes of fame to come in an expensive, terrifying ballet of ice-inspired mechanical failure.  It is probably not, technically, salt, it is probably some chemical mixture, but whatever it is after a short time it covers almost everything, and everywhere you go everything you see looks ashen, grey and dead.  It's not bad enough winter is slowly strangling your will to live, but the entire city starts to look like a scene from a post apocalyptic future.  A future where some seemingly benign creation of man somehow went haywire and blocked all of the suns rays that provide color, and warmth, and life.  Personally I am betting on those cursed E-Cigarette things that are popping up all over.  All that "vapor" (vapor, yeah, right) can't be good.

Tuesday and, Wednesday brought cold, mind numbing cold that settles into your bones and stays until almost July.  In the past this was a "cold snap," or a "blast of winter" in some extreme cases it was an "arctic front," moving through.  But, with the advent of twenty four hour news, sports, and weather networks all of those sound so skimpy, so finite.  Now, it is a "Polar Vortex!"  There is a phrase that will make you zip up your jacket a little higher, pull down your stocking cap a little lower, and send local meteorologists rushing for the microphone, and a gimmick.  "It is so cold, Marybeth Anne, we are going to do the weather forecast outside tonight."  Wow, it must be cold!  I said to my wife just the other night, "look at that poor local meteorologist toiling outside in the cold, just like a sanitation engineer, or a first responder, what a brave soul."

But, now we have arrived safely at our destination, Friday, the gateway to the weekend, freedom from the alarm clock, freedom from a hurried good bye, and a mad dash to the car, freedom from the oppressive commute, and the peril involved in driving 70 miles an hour on a road filled with people who probably didn't get enough sleep, and are running a few minutes late, and are bound and determined to make up for lost time by passing everybody on the freeway, even if that requires the use of the shoulder or median, while they finish their breakfast, god, I hope it isn't pancakes today.

But, soon I will be home, safe and sound, enjoying dinner, and a recording of the Cornhuskers beating the Hoosiers in basketball,  Thank you, Coach Miles!  There is something refreshing about that guy, kind of like the weekend.