For a lazy slacker such as I (or such as Iíve been lately), Friday can be like that corner of the ballpark where all the hot dog wrappers end up after they swirl around in the wind for three hours. Iíve been so efficient at avoiding work this week that the pipes are clogged with it. I need a little cosmic drain opener or Iíll be stuck all weekend with a virtual plunger in my hand.
So I turned this particular Friday into a microcosm of the week that was. I shied away from doing anything all day, and then had to wedge it all into those few hours between quitting time (which is when my energy started coming back) and, oh, about eight oíclock (which is when I lost it again). As always, I crammed only the bare minimum into those few hours, but now I can face Saturday morning without having to set my alarm clock. Thatís all I really wanted out of the day. Or the week.