That Friday Feeling
Friday, Sept. 24, 2004, 7:15 p.m.

QUESTION: How'd he do that?

WHAT I LEARNED: Fridays are fun days.

I love Fridays. I love Fridays when the clock hits sometime after the 5 PM mark even better. I can almost feel that weekend switch being pulled, like a giant lever way off somewhere in the great cosmos that is life, flipped in one big sweep of action from run to walk, work to play. The weekend clocks in as the workweek strides off into oblivion for a few blissful days.

Ah, Friday afternoon. A perfect moment in time. The late afternoon sunlight dribbles through the trees; I switch out the music on my CD player from music for the working woman to music for the weekend woman. My venti coffee is long ago gone and the Diet Cokes have commenced to flow. The noise of the household drifts past � TV, kid sounds, kitchen noises. I hang out in my office with the door closed for a few minutes and enjoy my relationship with my computer � a beloved household member and always the center of a flurry of activity, it is now mine, mine, mine.

On top of my desk there are the bits and pieces of the week just finished scattered about. A bottle of quick dry nail polish in vivid red for end-of-the-work-week touch ups, four different bracelets worn over four different days, one watch with a yellow face, two pens, one sharpened pencil still in possession of its eraser, a � box of blank CDs, a stack of papers with some mail mixed in, random receipts, a new tube of lip gloss, a keychain without any keys, a clever hair clip bow made of cool pink shoelaces (new ones), 2 ticket stubs to a movie seen 2 weeks ago with my son that still make me smile when I look at them, an empty coffee cup, and a lamp with one bulb burned out. Some of the papers from the stack are stuffed on a shelf so I don�t count them as desk clutter. This is a Friday desk and it has its Friday charm. Papers on the shelf are invisible to me right now.

In the next room is the cable guy. According to my husband he is dismantling our sophisticated and long forgotten wiring scheme, which allows us to feed cable through DVD player and stereo system. This doesn�t bode well but it turns out all right. Amazingly, in the end - after moving furniture, boxes of photos, stacks of VHS tapes, and a basket of decorative accessories from the area within a 4-foot radius around the cable plate, the problem was found and repaired by this handy cable guy. Thank God for technical know-how. The cable guy is gone now but the cable picture continues to broadcast with amazing clarity so that we find ourselves almost riveted to the spot by the beauty of it. Eventually however, hunger wins out and we all pile into the car to load up on some Friday night junk food - the kind you order through a speaker box and pick up at the drive-through window. It�s likely that we�ll soon be saying - and super-size those fries, please.

A fun carefree Friday night is on again!

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