That Friday Feeling
Itâ€™s official. I have that Friday Feeling.
I should explain. Americans say â€œThank God itâ€™s Friday,â€ or â€œTGIFâ€ if youâ€™re really corporate, or â€œIs it beer o’clock yet?â€ or â€œFuck this, tomorrowâ€™s Saturday, Iâ€™m hiding behind something until 5.â€
Norwegians say they â€œhave that Friday Feeling.â€
I found this out from working with Norwegians. One of them particularly would say this. â€œI have that Friday feeling.â€ He was very earnest about it. We would just laugh and laugh. I guess it loses something in the translation, but to us, it always sounded really gay. Not gay like: â€œAntwan just told me he likes to lick sphincter, I think heâ€™s gay.â€ More 80s gay, like: â€œI canâ€™t believe youâ€™re wearing parachute pants. Thatâ€™s so gay.â€ (Though I suppose if Antwan wore parachute pants, thatâ€™d be double gay, or Ã¼bergay, or gay to the max.)
Coincidentally, the Norwegian who use to say he had the Friday feeling really was gay, but not 80s gay, though I donâ€™t know if he licked sphincter. I donâ€™t analyze gay enough to need to know that, but I digress.
My point is â€“ as both gay and straight Norwegians would say â€“ I have that Friday feeling.
Maybe itâ€™s the weather. This has been our week of spring. The weather is gorgeous, breezy, just right for sitting in a field and drinking really good Belgian beer. Even when it hits 80, itâ€™s a dry 80 â€“ the kind you spend most of your days dreaming about in Tampa.
Or maybe itâ€™s the dusty document Iâ€™m pouring over, trying to remove the irrelevant parts from the desperately dated parts. The whole thingâ€™s practically useless, and itâ€™s all about some policy or some such blah blah.
Or maybe itâ€™s just that Friday feeling, and I want to get the fuck out of here and do just about anything that doesnâ€™t invoke responsibility and/or being here. Hell, Iâ€™ll even do something semi-responsible, if I can do it at home or from a pub.
Today is the kind of day that justifies why there should be outdoor bowling alleys.