Friday. Don’t you just love that day? Doesn’t it fill you with relief and joy, knowing that you’ve slogged through Monday and Tuesday, blurred your way through Wednesday, tingled with anticipation Nearly-Friday-Thursday until, finally, FRIDAY?!? Oh man, it’s like that sweet sweet sensation of climbing into a freshly made bed, or getting your key into the lock on the first try. Friday almost doesn’t count as a part of the week, because you’re so looking forward to the plans (or, heck, no plans) you’ve made for the weekend that it just sort of blinks and then, 5pm, hello! You trip merrily across the office/library/enter yours here, and race home and jump on the bed in happiness or open that bottle of plonk early in a bar with your friends (or by yourself, no judging), because YAY IT’S FRIDAY.
I work weekends.
So, therein lies that awful disruption to a familiar routine that you have known and loved since before you can really remember. My Friday has become a Whyday. Imagine a toddler, who has just been told that he/she can’t stay up late/eat anymore chocolate/put their baby sibling in the toilet, see their face in your mind’s eye, watch that little bundle of joy scrunch up its eyes, turn red with rage, open its mouth to the fullest, and yell out “WHHYYYYY???” You’ll have an idea, then, of what working weekends is like, when your friends are texting you to see if you’re EVER going to make it out, or watching Facebook feeds filling up with statuses announcing to the world that they are “going out drinking and dancing with my peeps tonight whaaaaa???!” My dears, it’s deplorable.
I can well assume that most of you who read this have had, or still have, a weekend job to look forward to, and can therefore understand my twinge of envy with regard to the inevitable Whyday. And, let’s face it, it’s not always through choice that people work weekends. Sometimes, there just isn’t another option. If you work weekends and your Friday isn’t a Whyday, then sir/madam, I salute you, and would kindly request that you pass on your wisdom regarding your feelings towards this particular time. Because I am sat here, in bed, on a Friday night, feeling very much like the whinging toddler previously described.
No doubt, however, that when the day comes when I am once more a 9-5 working gal, living it up for the weekend, then I will truly miss the Sunday nights, when I have my own little ritual of kicking off my work shoes, shedding my work clothes for something comfier than work clothes (which is practically anything else I own), and popping the cork out of the bottle, knowing I don’t have to be up early on Monday. I guess, really, my Friday nights are many of your Sunday nights. Only you win, weekday workers, you win, because I just can’t shake that special feeling that a Friday brings. Even now, having been a weekend worker for a solid six months, it’s just not something I can seem to shake off. I miss my Friday Feeling, so you all make damn sure that you enjoy yours whilst you have it!
One more thing: If you’re ever having a WHHHYYYY?? moment, whether you’re a weekday or weekend worker, just think of a friend of mine, who goes to school AND works all weekend, and quit whining. That girl is FIERCE.