Friday, 10 June 2011
Living for the weekdays
I told a friend this morning about a dream I have. A dream I choose to push up the ladder of importance. A dream that I will honour, despite the fallout from rejected normality.
When I hear people happy that it is Friday, I think of them as having lost the plot. Imagine if you so look forward to Friday because it means you will have two days when you are happy and doing whatever you want. Imagine hanging on for two days a week to release the beast inside and let you canter through what should be the better parts of your life.
I don't want to be a person who looks forward to the weekends. I want to hang out for the weekdays. I want to wake up each morning and be glad that today is today, despite it's closeness to the weekend.
Hump day should only be the days we climb the bell tower and hang off the ropes that ring the dings and dongs across Paris.
This year, I've woken up and gone to work and loved it. I've loved coming home. I've loved weekends. None of it feels forced or endured. Life shouldn't rape you. It should be like making love.
To lose that is unacceptable. I shall chase my weekdays like some of you chase your weekends.