What does Friday mean to you?
Thank God It's Friday, a sentiment felt around the world. There is a bit more pep in your sneaker-clad step as you head out on your lunch break, dressed in business casual attire. Plans for happy hour margaritas are made, and the clock ticks ever so slowly toward 5 pm. Today I asked myself what Friday means to me, and I thought that perhaps it means something a little different to each of us. For me, Friday means preparing to leave the stresses of work behind, sliding off my prosthesis, and resting my tired body. Depending on my energy level, it might mean not making any plans other than laying on the couch for a good Netflix binge and taking a nice nap in the sunshine.
Maybe your "Friday" is a Monday, and you clock out at 1 am instead of 5 pm or maybe, you don't work. Whether it's a literal or figurative Friday, there is still a day that we all look forward to most, the one that allows us to recover and prepare for the week ahead. I remember being on medical leave after surgery, knowing that the weekend meant a break from doctor's appointments. It was such a relief to have a few days each week without the constant reminder that my health wasn't out of the woods yet. I spent time with my family and worked on my mental health.
As Saturday morning arrives and we sleep in an extra hour or two, the birds chirping wake us. Coffee tastes better than it has all week because we get to drink it in bed. Parents get to hug their kids a bit longer and catch up on laundry, and brunch menus are prepared for those in their Sunday best. It's the weekend that keeps us going when the week has pilled on loads of responsibility and unpleasant tasks with tight deadlines. Monday's mean stronger coffee (not as tasty as our weekend coffee, though) and a plan with the motivation to make it happen. Why? Because of the weekend. The weekend fills our cup when we're on the last sip. It makes it possible to keep our friendly customer service voice going for approximately five 8-hour shifts before we simply cannot any longer. As someone living with a disability, I find it physically challenging to get through the workday wearing my prosthesis without a break. I don't dream of the weekend because I hate my job. I dream of the weekend because it is therapy for me, both physically and emotionally. Wherever you are reading this, I hope this weekend you get to soak in a bathtub or sunbathe at the beach if it's what your heart desires. Whatever you do, do it for yourself.
P.S. I think it's quite clear, but if you did not pick it up from my tone, I wrote this on a Friday.
