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.

Thanksgiving Comes Early

What a magic weekend, enchanted, and wonderful.  A weekend that brings so much joy to so many, so much pleasure to a tired nation.  This is the weekend the gods of chronology give us an extra hour sleep.  This is the weekend when you can wake up, look at the clock, and think, "no, it is not 8:00 it is only 7:00 and I can sleep another hour."  

 
Oh sure, the sadistic, heartless members of the irresponsible press will tell you to turn your clocks ahead before you go to bed tonight, but that is only a government generated, corporate approved, mandate designed to fuel the oppression, and control of the masses, keeping the population compliant, imprisoned, and toiling in anonymous, thankless labor, feeding the giant profits that our elected representatives, and their owners, big business, have come to enjoy. But, we here #LifeExplained™, are here to help set our brothers and sister, and moms, dads, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews free.

 
Before you go to bed tonight ignore your clocks, walk past them without a second thought, without a glance. Think of your clock as your job responsibilities and ignore them completely, thinking "oh, I will take care of that tomorrow." Maybe even have an extra bourbon, or scotch, beer, wine, of soft drink, and some more popcorn, nachos, or wings, and live life in complete gluttony, and complete disregard for all of the advice and concern of your doctor, and loved ones. Why not, you will get an Extra Hour Of Sleep. And sleep is the ultimate remedy.

 
Here, I would be remiss if I neglected to point out that our poor friends in Indiana don't get this fantastic gift. They have the same, dull, monotonous time all year long, going from day to day, never ending, robot like automatons. Always under the thumb of "the man," doing all of that stuff that Indiana natives are famous for, whatever that is. It is time Indianan… Indianian, Indianaiananian… Indiana natives, whatever you are called, it is time to rise up and demand an extra hour of sleep, it is your right.

 
So, tonight indulge, over indulge, and then have a little more. It is the night of extravagance, it is the night of rewarding yourself for all of those mornings where the clock was in charge, where the clock was the master. Tomorrow you have the upper hand, (at least for an hour) and that doesn't happen very often.

Now you know.

This just in, Last Friday, during an early spring snowstorm, Eden resident Peggy Gervase was looking at the pond near her home when she noticed an unusual pattern in the snow covering the water's surface: large circles that resembled giant polka dots.

"I've never seen this before in our pond," Gervase told local TV station WGRZ. "It's eerie in a way, but cool in a way."

After Gervase posted a photograph of the pond circles to the station's Facebook page, respondents offered a number of explanations for the strange circles, including elephant footprints, fish flatulence and aliens.

Though aliens sometimes get the blame for crop circles and other unusual phenomenon, with no real evidence, Gervase isn't buying it, "I'm not that far gone yet," she told WGRZ.

There are more rational explanations: Natural springs often feed ponds with slightly warmer water than the water freezing at the pond's surface during cold weather. As the warmer spring water rises, it would melt the snow and ice on the pond's surface.

Additionally, decaying vegetation on the bottom of the pond could release gases that slowly rise to the surface, creating the polka-dot effect.

Intriguing circular formations are known to occur throughout the natural world during seasonal freeze and thaw cycles.

In areas of permafrost (like the northern Canadian tundra), the expansion of ice beneath the soil surface — a process called frost heaving — creates raised landforms called lithalsas. Lithalsas often form circular or ring-shaped patterns on the surface.

Frost heaving also creates a related landform called a pingo. Over many years, pingos can grow into small, circular hills: The tallest known pingo is the Kadleroshilik Pingo in Alaska, which reaches 178 feet (54 meters) in height.

Naturally formed, perfectly round, frozen pond circles, this seemed a little suspicious. Maybe another cover up, another example of government generated, press fueled, misinformation. But, it turns out to be one more example of "life imitating art." A quick internet search for "bizarre, yet completely normal, and adequately explained natural phenomenon" provided several more examples.

For example, this oddly shaped storm damage caused by hail, wind, and driving rain in a wheat field right outside Garden City, Kansas. 

Or, the unusual erosion pattern that has formed this breathtaking vista in the Black Hills of South Dakota.

There is no cause for alarm, these things are easily explained.  Just relax and enjoy life.

Today’s Concern is the Plight of the Working Man.

 When the alarm clock rings in the morning it shortens a life by a few seconds.  It reaches it’s cold, heartless fingers into a healthy sleep and pulls the last 5 or 6 seconds of a life and throws them in the waste bin of eternity.  Not much, just a few seconds, but it adds up.  A person has no choice but to climb out of bed, after hitting the “snooze” button at least once.  Scientists are still debating if the snooze button alarm has the same effect, and experiments continue but it may take years.  Comfortable and warm the bed is like a loved ones hug, and life, once again, rips a person away, and throws them into the world.  Barely awake, hardly breathing, heart just warming up to it’s daily job of pushing blood through the body, a terrible thought races through the mind, “what if the coffee maker quit working?”  It is in those moments that the ability to pray returns.

Teeth brushed, hair combed, deodorized, anti-perspired, dressed, and ready for the day, sort of, the world calls.  But, it is a siren’s call, it lies in ambush, silently outside the door, barely able to suppress an evil giggle.

On the way to a car that won’t start are puddles, some of which are bottomless, barking dogs, which ones will

bite, rain, hail, sleet, and snow.  Is it Monday, again?  It is a windy, chilly, wet walk to the bus stop.

Finally, against all odds, work begins, daily toil, responsibility, the stuff of legends, sort of.  Except, the printer is out of toner, shoot, how does this always happen? 

Well, might as well get some coffee, see if there are any treats in the break room, yesterday there were bagels, and cream cheese.

Dang, no treats, and no coffee, either.  Why is the stupid thing always empty?!?!?!?!?  It doesn’t take long to make a pot, so, just wait there until it is finished, no cheating and taking the pot and letting it run right into the mug, either, screw that.  Just wait, right there, until it is done.

Lunch time is special, there is magic in lunch time, it passes more quickly than other time, but it carries power, and it is wonderful.  Unless someone steals your lunch.  Son of a bitch!  A pastrami and swiss with Dijon on marbled rye, salt and vinegar chips and a greek yogurt for desert, and someone took it.  Lunchtime from the vending machine is not the same, it doesn’t sparkle, it glares.   Those cookies had to be a year old, they looked like Dali’s clocks, and tasted like dust. 

Everything has to get better now, this has already been as bad as it can be, right?  Maybe not, the only seat left on the bus is right next to a person who smells like a corpse, and is eating something that has the pleasant aroma of carrion.  Curse the luck.

Walking home a ten dollar bill floats blissfully in front of you and clings to your leg.  Now that is some good luck.

“Hey Mom, I had a great day.  I found $10.00!”  And the phone call just gets better, the smiles are contagious.