EIGHTY-TWO

I LOVE FRIDAYS.  I love the idea of a weekend stretched out in front of me - full of possibilities.  This might be the weekend I get my apartment organized.  This might be the weekend, we do something spontaneous and take pictures that look like a J. Crew ad.  This might be the weekend I discover a meal that both The Girl and The Boy adore.  It could happen.

Of course, Sunday night rolls around and I suddenly remember that stack of papers I brought home to grade, and the three meetings I need to prep for by Monday at 10 a.m.  Monday morning dawns, and no one has clean socks or clean uniforms.  This is my life.

I have a special affinity to Fridays because for nearly five years, I didn't have them.  When the Husband went back to school, I started waitressing on the weekends, on top of teaching.  The toughest day was Friday.   I would teach until 3 p.m. and then come home for a few hours and go work a closing shift that started at 5:30.  I usually got home around 1:30 or 2:00, and was generally too keyed up to go straight to sleep.  Did you know that they run Degrassi High reruns at 2 in the morning?  Those poor mixed up Canadian kids.

When I finally quit my second job, and that first Friday rolled around, I nearly wept for the wonderfulness of it.  And even thought, I quit that job nearly three years ago, every Friday I still feel it; the wonderful emancipation of time off.  The beauty of rolling up to the apartment knowing that I can put my pjs on at 4:30 p.m. because I don't HAVE to go anywhere is just delicious with its goodness. Not to mention how amazing it feels to get actual sleep.

Of course life is still busy.  I spent ALL of this particular Friday, terrified and cleaning what the Boy has kept hidden under his bed.  It wasn't pretty.  He has one of this low loft bed with a big open space under neath.  We put a bookshelf and lamp under there, and I pictured him reading contentedly on a rainy Saturday, bathed in peaceful yellow light.  I did not picture abandoned bread crust, and empty water bottles.  It was not good.  Right now, he is sleeping peacefully in his newly cleaned room.  "I'll keep it this way always, Mom."  Sure, kid.  You said that when we had our last major cleaning overhaul four weeks ago -- I'm starting to doubt your commitment.

I got pretty tired and lazy because it is just The Boy and I.  The Girl is spending the night with her grandparents who will no doubt cater to her every whim.  She is sleeping and dreaming the peaceful dreams of someone who had her fingernails painted by her doting grandmother.  She'll probably have biscuits and gravy for breakfast because she likes it so much and Nanny loves to cook for people who love her cooking.

I feel for all of you out there who don't get a real Friday or weekend.  It is such a bummer.  When I was waiting tables, I really used to hate it when people would answer my, "How are you doing this evening?"  with a cheerful, "Well, it's Friday so it can't be bad!"  It always made me want to shake my head and just walk away from the table without taking their order, but tips man.  You gotta hang in there for the tips.  It didn't help that I was probably starving.  That's one thing you might not know about your servers -- they are usually starving.  There are no time breaks so no food.  With my combination of exhaustion and hunger, it's a wonder I was every cheerful enough to earn any tips!

It is getting late, and Friday is slipping away from me again.  Of course, the Husband is around the curve of the globe and just now, Saturday is already dawning on him.  The earth spins and we on it can only turn with it - hoping that each breaking dawn finds us well, loved and warm.

Good Night, all.

--Jen