There was a funny jingle, in the doo wop style, that one of the DJs where I grew up that went something like this:
Saturday (Saturday Night!)
I said Saturday (Saturday Night!)
Saturday night is partying time!
Saturday night is partying time!
I’m like that, only with Fridays.
Fridays are my favorite day of the week. And not just because the weekend is ahead. I work out every day, Monday to Thursday. Friday is the start of recovery. Not only to I not beat myself to death riding or running, I skip my salad at lunch and go out for a good burger.
Although lately, I’ve been getting curb stomped by Murphy on my burger lunch trips. No matter where I am, I’ll be the ones that the misfits and ill behaved sit adjacent. One place near my house, twice, Dad brought the Bad News Bears team out for lunch. On a Friday. And, wouldn’t you know, they sit next to me and carry on. Some days it’ll be the chatty hen party. Others, like today, the homeschoolers (I think. Why TF aren’t these kids in school?) that can’t seem to get into the booth without moving the seat I’m in on the other side. There was literally no one in that row of booths when I sat down. For whatever reason, Murphy told them to sit behind me.
Whatever.
At the end of the day, I pile the dogs in the truck and head to my Girl’s place for dinner, followed by simply hanging out, catching up, and watching the tube. It’s no longer an hour slog in rush hour traffic. It’s fifteen minutes across town, if that. She lives close enough to swing by, which she did this week, taking me out to dinner for my birthday. I’d like to say she was the first one to say Happy Birthday, but she wasn’t. It was one of my colleagues in India, of all people. She was second, though.
Damn. I’m 62. My old man was retired for seven years or so at this point in his life.
Not me. I don’t know when that’ll happen. If my maths are correct, and we don’t have an economic meltdown, I can switch jobs and go part time in a couple years. The battering my retirement accounts took with the divorce has healed relatively well. It’s not back to where it was, but it’s not sucking wind either.
Speaking of wind, it’s picking up here. Supposed to be a cold front coming in Sunday giving us a few days of frigid air. Seems early. It’s chilly and rain was fitfully trying to start as I walked the dogs this morning.
Doesn’t matter. It’s warm enough where I am.
Stay warm and have a great holiday weekend.
Inspected By Pat 