That Friday Feeling

by Taylor

Where are you right now when you read this? Maybe you’re at home in your favorite recliner on a Saturday? Or maybe you’re sneaking a read while at work on that dreaded Monday morning? In either situation you can probably appreciate the feeling of The Friday. That great blazing beauty on the horizon of the arduous work week. Since the beginning of time (and by time I mean the Monday through Friday, 9-5 work week), people have toiled and labored for the respite of the weekend. The concept of the weekend has been lauded over in much of pop culture throughout the ages. Even now, as I’m writing this, Loverboy’s famous hit “Working for the Weekend” rings in my ears.

The workweeks are long and hard, and they are hot. I work in a warehouse with no air conditioning, and for a majority of the day I stand by oversized ovens that burn at around 400 degrees for the entirety of the day. I lift heavy objects consistently throughout that time, and there is not a great part of the day where I am not sweating. You would assume, and you would be right to think I, like most people, look forward to The Friday. Don’t get me wrong. I really enjoy my job. I work in coffee, and I love coffee. Everyday I’m graced with the opportunity to be around a product that I am passionate about and of which I can constantly learn more. But as fortunate as I might be, I too look forward to Friday... only my Friday might look different than yours because my Friday comes every day of the week.

Right now, as I’m thinking of this post, I’m on my way home from a day of work, and as always I am dirty and sweaty. There is a moderate rain falling as I rush down the interstate as much as I can in rush hour traffic to make it to class. And the strangest thing you might think, I am happy. In fact, I’m barely able to stay in my seat. Today is my Friday just like yesterday was my Friday because I get to see her. Exactly a month ago as I write this, I married my wife. For some reason, the most romantic thing I could compare her to was the weekend, but maybe you can understand what I’m saying. Think about the worst workday you’ve ever had, I mean ever. And how much you just wished you could go home, be somewhere else, wished it was Friday so you could start the weekend. Now, imagine someone tells you that you can have that weekend, and it lasts for the rest of your life. That’s the feeling I have when I’m on my way home to see my wife, nope. Better than that. Much, much better than that.

Tonight I will sit in class for three hours, and then my wife and I will probably go home, crawl into bed, read a bit, and then go to sleep, only to wake up and do it all again tomorrow. There’s nothing extraordinary about tonight, and yet there is. There’s something incredibly extraordinary about it, and that’s why tomorrow will produce that same Friday Feeling, that same uncontainable excitement to get home, not to escape but to return… to her… to the one whom my soul loves… on a Friday and yet not on a Friday… and enjoy our weekend… for the rest of our lives.  

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