TGIF

Thursday evenings are the new Fridays at our place. When I get home from the gym it feels like the weekend is just starting even though I have a whole eight hours to log in at work. Lately, the last workday of the week goes by so fast, I sometimes feel I don't have to count it.

Fridays are full of hope and I'm usually hyper most of the day. The to-do list begins to take form in my head and some ideas make it to sticky notes that are then tucked into my purse. These are the optimistic plans for the weekend, the names of people to call, places to go, things to do. Saturday morning brings in it's own energy and spontaneity takes over. Phones calls we were supposed to answer become messages not received until much later, too late, projects not on the list are finally completed and the satisfaction of accomplishment sends us to a favorite restaurant, not the new one we meant to try and we end up running into friends unexpectedly and then the hours lift and hurl us into Sunday.

Sunday is a wild card. It can be a completely languid day filled with much needed relaxation that is much appreciated but dissolves into a Monday morning rush. Sunday has the added stress of being the last free day. What is done on Sunday can make the weekend seem so long and lush or nip it all too soon. Now that I have deconstructed the weekend for myself, perhaps it's time I clean out those stickies that have filled the side pockets of my purse. Why do I do this?