Dr. Dale Moore

Essayist, bloggerist, philosopherist & ramblerist

We all know that the single most important day of the week is Friday. Alright, so as to not offend my deeply pious friends, deference is appropriately noted for the religiously associated day appearing on the calendar — I get it.  That said, even the most zealous fellow humanoid among us can’t help but be borderline giddy when Friday rolls around. Admit it. As you leave work on Thursday you do so secure in the knowledge that work as we know it will only suck for a maximum of 8 more hours, tops. You can live with that reality. Fridays are even sanctioned by some organizations under the moniker of casual Friday. Not to digress but I often wonder if those in the circus/carnival business celebrate casual Friday?  Fridays are a deeply cultural thing too as office colleagues begin, usually  around lunch time, putting out feelers lobbying in favor of which downtown watering hole should host the end-of-the-week company cocktail debriefing. It is here collars are unbuttoned, ties get loosened, swizzle sticks become chew-toys, and the ambient noise is just loud enough to drown out the ring-tone. Bar napkins become grocery lists with incoherent scribbles reminding us of things to pick up on the way home  —  beer, charcoal, lighter fluid, beer, salsa, toilet paper, buns, beer, milk, diapers, beer, brats, toothpaste. You know the ritual. So rejoice all my Friday clock-watching friends, you know who you are! Work might be a 4-letter word but as long as Friday remains a constant, there is a glimmer of hope!

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