Fear & Loathing on Friday

Fear & Loathing on Friday

The whole TGIF bit chaps my ass. As someone who’s worked nights, weekends and holidays for more than a decade, I don’t get the excitement the proletariat feels for Friday.
To me, it’s just another day except the traffic seems to be worse. I hate driving on the main streets in the Shenango Valley on Fridays, when everyone appears to be out-and-about and road rage threatens to explode in a volcano of verbal vulgarities.
Making Friday out as a holiday of sorts puzzles me, however. Are most people’s jobs so bad that they look forward to the weekend that much?
I don’t know, because I don’t do drudge work.
My craft is writing, reporting and photography and I’ll admit it: I live to work, not that I consider my “job” to be “work” if that makes any sense.
Most of the time, I get to see cool things from a good vantage point, and write and take pictures of it all.
So a day off for me is a day that I’m missing whatever’s going on and I feel left out.
I feel bad for the folks who have a job where all they do is complain: sure, Monday’s busy, but again, it’s just another day for me. I don’t feel like I’ve crossed a hump when I get to Wednesday and find nothing special about Saturday night.
I don’t really have a favorite day and have never thanked God for Friday as I’ve more important things to be thankful for.
But some folks live to holler about TGIF and all the fancy stuff they’re going to do. I think it’s because everyone else is so riled up about it that I prefer to withdraw from the world come Friday night.
I’ll read a book and listen to some jazz, try to get in a little personal writing and enjoy the solace of solitude after a busy workweek.
Alas, it’s Friday, thanks to God notwithstanding.