It's Saturday evening and just like that, the weekend's almost over. I hate that. Where does it go? Tomorrow brings Sunday, church and then the week starts right on up again. It's crazy. I feel like I am living for the weekend. People curse Monday and act like it's Monday's fault they have to go back to work. Monday is an innocent bystander, but it gets such an ugly rap. Tuesday doesn't have it much easier, having to put up with residual pissed-it’s-Monday-ness. Wednesday is the day that all the weekend's late hours have finally caught up and sleeping at one’s desk becomes a most favoured pastime. Then comes Thursday. Thursday is a much welcomed day, although if I were Thursday, I'd have a serious complex. All day long, people go around talking about how it's "almost Friday". Smiles start to reappear on the faces of the weary as the clouds of the work week slowly begin to part, allowing a glimpse into the future – Friday is almost here. Let the rejoicing begin!
Finally Friday rolls around and the real countdown begins. Every hour on the hour, people announce how many hours remain in the work day, timing each second closer to freedom. When quitting time finally arrives, the smiles on people's faces and the pep in their steps speak volumes. It's the weekend! Then what? It lasts two days and before you know it, you’re back at work starting the 5-day countdown all over again. As thankful as I am for my job, I sometimes find my self participating in the countdown right around Thursday. This week, I’m going to just thank God for my job daily instead of counting down and see how fast or not the week goes.