Welcome to the Weekend

Well, it's finally Friday. With the wicked weather we've been having lately, it feels like Friday should have happened four days ago. But, here we are...eight hours to go and then it will be 5 o'clock and I'll be FREE! FREE! The end of the work week always makes me feel like a little kid watching the clock at school, impatiently waiting for the final bell to ring so that I can race home and have FUN.

But then I get home and look around, and start mentally tallying up all the housework that didn't get done during the week. It always seems much worse than it is, but on Friday night all I want to do is sit down and curl up with a good book or knit. Well, maybe go to a movie. But I sure don't want to do anything domestic. I save all that Martha crap for Saturday morning, when I can get into a coffee-induced cleaning frenzy and blast through the housework in two hours or less. Friday nights are supposed to be FUN.

Once I post this, HWSRN will read it and get to feeling all guilty about me and the housework. That's not my intention here, folks...I'm not looking to put him on a guilt trip. I'm just meditating on my own insanity and the desire to eradicate all the cat hair from my home so that it can be CLEAN. It must be some weird, womanly nesting instinct taking over, but it sure is a powerful draw. I mean, it's not like my folks visit or I have a ton of people over to critique my shabby cleaning skills. I just can't sit still if I see DIRT. I blame this defect on my mother, who is a compulsive cleaner, too. Argh. Can we ever escape the traits we inherit from our parents?

Well, I hope all you hippies out there in blogland have a good weekend! Skip the cleaning if you can and have some FUN...reading, knitting, or movie-going...whatever makes you happy and relaxed enough to face the coming work week. :)

UPDATE TO THIS BORING POST:
HWSRN read this post and sent me a charming e-mail that stated: "I'm excited by the weekend because I get to spend time with you!" Isn't he just too adorable? I'm glad I found him, and no...you can't have his peanut butter-loving ass.