It really doesn't feel like a Friday. It feels like just another day as my highly structured, highly routinized life melts like the molecular bonds of butter between a grilled cheese sandwich and a hot teflon pan.
Of course these aren't really problems; how could I dare complain when the future was initiated by us and miraculously worked out perfectly?
The stress really originates from the struggle to keep a routine as our life slowly changes. It's as if we're peeing in our space suit as we wait to get clearance to take off. We'll wait another 18 days and then in a matter of hours our lives will be so different, our dogs will barf.
In the meantime, we'll indulge ourselves with Little Caesar's Pizza, crisp cool dry morning air, drumming without fear, and playing my tunes as loud as I want at work.
Of course, this is how I feel this week. Next week will be totally different. As Jerry Seinfeld explains it:
"When you're moving your whole world becomes boxes. That's all you think about is boxes. Boxes, where are there boxes? You just wander down the street going in and out of stores. Are there boxes here? Have you seen any boxes? I mean it's all you think about. You can't even talk to people because you can't concentrate. Shut up I'm looking for boxes. Just after a while you become like really into it you can smell them. You walk into a store. There's boxes here. Don't tell me you don't have boxes. Dammit, I can SMELL them."