Friday Night and All is Well

It's Friday evening - the tenderloin of the weekend. I have a moral obligation to make the most out of it by wasting it. It's 10:15, it's been a brutal week, the kids are asleep, and I'm thoroughly exhausted; I have nothing in particular that I have to do, yet I just have to do something. Stacy is already in bed, but that is not an option for me. To go to bed now would be essentially criminal; it would be wasting a night set aside for wasting, but wasting it in the worst possible way to waste something: unappreciatively. You see: its Friday. If I go to bed it will very quickly become Saturday, and we all know that Saturday gives rise to Sunday and in the blinking of an eye (im nächsten Augenblick as the Germans would say), it will be Monday again and my life will sink once more into chaos and despondency. Friday night is this rare ephemeral, transitory spot that is neither weekday or weekend. It is a gift — a gift that must be spent foolishly, though introspectively.

On Saturday there will be things to get done, jobs to complete. I will want to be productive, efficient, competent, thorough. But Friday night is a different animal. Friday night is subversive, selfish; it is to be squandered greedily, but with intent and purpose and filled with self-awareness. It is to be flagrant and flaunting, yet solipsistic and self-conscious. On Friday nights you have to regularly stop what ever you are doing to waste the time and say to yourself: It's Friday and I'm enjoying wasting it. You have to put these little mental chalk marks on the night; these little reminders to yourself that you were there and experienced it. Markers of the time.

I have to consciously indulge in each little moment. Each ticking of the clock is to be thought of as a little pearl, a little poem. It says "I - don't - have - to - go - to - work - for - two - whole - days!" And the best part is that since it's still only Friday night, I haven't really even started! I don't have to be depressed yet at how quickly the weekend's flying by because it's still FRIDAY and it doesn't count! It's not borrowed time, its stolen time! It's like playing the quarters you win from a slot machine: it wasn't really yours to start with, so you can spend it extravagantly! - you can waste it! - but you've got to waste it with a sweet savoring of every little coin. It's like maple syrup - you don't need much, just one night, just one little drip, but you'd dang well better lick the plate clean.

What will I do to savor this fillet mignon of time off? Easy: Surf You-Tube and Wikipedia! And with each click of the mouse I will think: I didn't waste a bit of my weekend vegging on the computer, because it's still Friday, and the weekend hasn't really started yet!