Phriday! Far from the evil toenails of doom!
So, it is, of course, Friday. You can sing the horrid Rebecca Black song in your head if you like. I won’t judge you (to your face). It feels very much like a Friday, too — the office is almost completely empty, I’m still quite lazy, but I’m drinking coffee and working, so there is that.
My first “real job” out of college, I used to count the hours until Friday. I knew that on Monday morning when I woke up, I had 50 hours until I was back home to start the weekend (I had an hour each way commute, which was the extra 10 hours). Any time you asked me, I knew exactly how many hours and minutes I had until 5:30 on Friday afternoon. Thing is, it wasn’t a bad job — I’ve actually had very few of those (apart from a couple in Davenport, IA). It’s not like I dreaded going to work; quite the opposite in fact. But still, the countdown to when my time was my own was still ticked off in my head, sitting in the background like the clock on 24.
Nowadays, I still have the countdown clock, though I tend to work on the weekends anyway. I think it has to do with not being at a certain place at a certain time — that no one expects me to show up somewhere to do something.
I think I’m just built to work from home. 
What about you, folks? Are you as irrationally fond of Friday as I am?
