For the Love of Fridays

The alarm clock buzzed in my ear, over and over and over. Snooze was both my best friend and worst enemy. But still, I hurried to be on time, despite the fact that no one ever is on Fridays. Except me.

Coffee made, coffee poured, coffee cold.

The project – it started out so well. I was so fresh, so sharp, so ready, this morning. I opened that folder and boom. Typing, imagining, planning, producing at lightning speed, laser focused.  I was happy to throw myself into anything anyone asked, because it’s Friday. Last day of the week, first day of the weekend.

Unless you count Thursday nights, which I did last night. Oh, that bottle of red. Mmhm. Delicious and gone.

The project – it ended so poorly. The words and images, the URLs and prompts, all jumbled together. They made one big blobby mess, before drifting apart. They drifted out of my head, off my computer screen, across my office, past the cubicles, and left the building. They’re probably already at the bar gearing up for Friday Fun Lunch.

The stone, cold wall I hit really hurt my head. I couldn’t comprehend how I let that happen. I forgot that it’s Friday. My brain is missing, my sleep deprived.

Time to shut her down and walk away. It’s Friday.

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