HHIF, Y'all.

That stands for “Ho Hum, It’s Friday.” Y’all.

I don’t look forward to Fridays. I am not a “workin’ for the weekend” kind of guy. Weekends are just not that special to me.

I may go to bed a few hours later and then turn off the alarm and let the kids wake me up the next morning. But it’s the same amount of sleep. I don’t go off to my job, but weekends mean a work of a different kind. Entertaining little kids and a caring for a household is work. Usually those tasks that can’t be taken care of during the week are left to the weekends. Different kind of work, but more work.

Not that I don’t like being around my family. I look forward to it. But I just don’t greet Fridays with that “TGIF” joie de vivre.

Besides, when we want to have fun and go on a date, Heidi and I are just as likely to go out during the week as any. We don’t wait for the next weekend. When we need to get away, we get away. And we prefer the “off-peak” mode — visiting all the places you folks crowd into on the weekend at off times when y’all aren’t there.

And I don’t engage in any recreational activities that I have to “sleep off” later. So I don’t need the weekend time structure — where you stay up late and sleep late to compensate — to allow me to pursue any social activities involving controlled doses of self-destructive indulgence. Our average date starts at, say, 5:30 and ends at 10:30. I hear tell from my partying friends that 10:30 p.m. is when the fun’s just getting started. I wouldn’t know, myself.

I like it that way. For me, time has a quiet, happy, mundane continuity to it. I don’t divide my experience into five days of indentured servitude followed by two days of recreation. It’s all an illusion, this concept we call the weekend.

And, best of all, I don’t dread Mondays.

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