It's a Friday, end of the work week, first Friday in October, and the only day of the week that begins with F -as if any of that mattered. I went to sleep last night with a thousand plans for Friday, and then awoke this morning with the will for none of them. Could barely make it through the first cup of coffee. I am pressing on, however. It's 10:30. The morning is half over, and that's half of a third of the day! I can make it!

I carbo-loaded last night, too, gearing up for a long run this morning, but when I awoke to find all my running gear in the laundry, all the hype was sapped. So here I am, all carbo-loaded with nowhere to go. Also, I burned my bagel, fed the tortoises some plants I had sprayed pesticide on earlier this week, and the Little Ditchman refused to eat her waffle and demanded a nap at 8AM. And the Little Digger was up at 4:30AM again, like he's done every day this week. Don't look now, but Friday clapped its hands and became F-day, without even trying.

It could be worse. You could be the CEO of the Wisconsin Tourism Federation, arriving at work every day with all those memos on your desk that read "WTF". (They are now the "Tourism Federation of Wisconsin", which is still funny, because now you just say it in your head backwards.) I can hear the CEO screaming But it's not our fault! No sir, it's not your fault, but you're gonna have to change the name anyway, and at your own expense. It happens sometimes.

Or you could be an executive working for the Office of Government Commerce, but you don't get along with the kid who delivers the inter-office mail every day. He hates his job. He hates you. Each morning, without fail, he hands the mail to you sideways, and you both know why. There's nothing anyone in HR can do about it.





Have a nice, long weekend. (Two S-days in a row!)


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