FRIDAY!

Are you as happy as I am that this day has finally arrived? I think we all have a breath of fresh air rush through our lungs the second that our alarm clocks go off on a Friday morning.

For full effect download “Glorious Day” by Weezer and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.

Everybody’s workin’ for the weekend. Thank you Loverboy for providing such an inspirational chorus for all of us to belt out once the 5:00 workweek clocks out. T.G.I.F. And it’s not just the late-night TV block of “Step by Step,” “Boy Meets World,” and “Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper” although, I do miss those instant ABC classics more than I miss pogs. And man do I miss me a good pogging session.

On Friday there is a spark in the air. We all are happy to be alive. Forget about factoring fractions, history lectures, and car insurance payments. All of that is thrown into some black hole of storage and we’ve obliterated the key for another 72 hours. All that we care about on Friday is any type of recreational activity that will dominate our time, ranging from sleeping in, to weekend campouts, to Back to the Future Marathons.

That’s just the way that Friday is. Kind of a feeling of accomplishment exists among us. As if we have just captured the Golden Fleece of Big Kidology 101, and thrown it into the Argo with brute force and strength. We have jumped through the hoops, done this, did that, and who cares what happens to us over the next two-day slot that has been given the sacred name of ‘weekend.’ And if we wake up from a drunken stupor Monday morning, who cares what has happened in Vegas, or at the concert, or with six guys, a raccoon, a torch, and a cube of Mt. Dew? None of that matters, because Friday is our day of celebration.

Casual Friday is something that we all look forward to. Especially my dear buddy J. Black Hairpiece who enjoys casual Fridays a bit too much. But that’s another blogppost entirely. Everything is casual though on Friday. Our decision-making prowess has taken a leave of absence whenever someone decides to confront us with anything complicated.

Panicked son: “You have to help me get this check mailed out to my mom before 5:00 p.m. If it doesn’t get in the mail before that hour, she is going to be trapped in a stuffed gorilla manufacturing factory in Juneau, Alaska!”

U.S. Mail employee: “Yeah, yeah, just put it on my desk, I’ll take care of it on Monday, now leave me alone so I can finish up playing Farmville online.”

Responsibility seems to take a quick exit stage left once the Friday virus occupies all of our minds. Well at least it does for me, a single guy who doesn’t have any dependents relying on me aside from being the designated chauffeur for my fellow roommates on our lunch dates, but hey, what do I care? It’s FRIDAY!!!

Friday is the day when we get un-grounded from a week of punishment from our subliminal parents.

Subconscious mind: “You can now pass GO, you can now collect $200!”

Conscious mind: “Whew! I was glad to get out of that last four-day mess!”

Friday is the banana split in all of our lives. It’s when the vending machine accidentally gives us two packs of starburst for the price of one. It’s when we find out that a paper isn’t actually due for another week and we stayed up all night wrapping it up. It’s the six-letter word that we all look forward to with another four-letter acronym.

Somewhere in Alaska, a terrified mother is still trapped in a stuffed gorilla manufacturing factory.

T.G.I.F.