One of the kindergarten teachers plays a welcome song every morning and on Fridays it is the Friday Song with that as the refrain. The kids dance. It’s really cute.
I do believe there is nothing like the feeling of driving home on Friday after a ___________ workweek. Insert your own descriptor.
1. a stressful work week
2. a fruitful work week
3. a productive work week
4. a tiring work week.
5. A dull work week.
This week I choose work week descriptor… #1 and #2!
When I get home on Fridays I put the car in the garage. It’s my signal of the boundaries between home and work being set. If I had a moat, at this time I’d be filling it with water and alligators.
I gather my things from the back seat of the car and go in. This is a momentous occasion. Crossing the threshold of my home
|photo credit: Stewf via photopin cc|
from the outside on a Friday night is a tremendous feeling of relief and release. As I step inside, there actually should be a mariachi band playing.
I close the door and lock it. The ‘tick’ the lock makes cements the feeling that I have now separated from the world.
I make sure to have cleaned up the apartment Thursday evening or Friday morning so that when I come in the place looks orderly and nothing stands out as needing attention or to be done. I close the windows, fire up the AC, and unpack. I change into comfy clothes, currently a stretched white Hanes tee shirt and very soft blue stretch pants. The world is now dead to me.
I fire up the laptop and pour a chilled green tea, warm up piece of pita bread to enjoy dipped in hummus.
Weekend has begun.