Tag Archives: Friday blues

AFI Friday

Those of you who sit hunched at your computer each day, pressing the refresh button over and over again like one of those perpetual motion birds anxious to read my daily words of genius (no, you’re anxious, not the birds) the second they are written, or even those of you who come here to laugh scornfully at my self-delusional belief that such people exist will have noticed an emerging pattern.

For those of you who don’t the pattern is discernible in the calendar on the right, where it appears that I am attempting to play Connect Four against Father Time.

I have not posted anything for three consecutive Fridays now. The reason for this will strike people as extremely odd, as indeed it struck me when I realised it. I am one of the few people on the planet who gets depressed on a Friday evening.

I do like my job, but it’s not as if it’s the centre of my life. Neither is it all that important, I do not save lives (though I might, did I mention that I passed my First-Aid exam? Can I mention it again?), I do not work for an organisation doing essential charitable work, I am not even a lollipop-lady making sure that children cross the road safely. It’s just an ordinary office job. I am always very busy and I know (not self-delusionally this time) that I do the job extremely well, so I do get quite a buzz out of it and the weekend is there to wind down from that buzz.

While most people wind down gently, like the Duracell bunny as its battery gradually runs out, I slump down violently, like the Duracell bunny as it runs over a cliff. As soon as I leave the office I begin to feel depressed. I know that this is not really depression (believe me, I know what depression is) but it is a feeling of dejection that I just cannot shake off.

Thanks to WordPress and its Postaday, for all that I slag its topics, I have forced myself to post something each Friday anyway, but for the last three weeks I just haven’t been able to bother. The first week I persuaded myself that I was worn-out after the First-Aid exam (did I mention – oh, forget it) and last week I was out after work and persuaded myself that it was too late when I got home, although it was only ten o’clock and I hadn’t had anything to drink so it was no real excuse.

Last night I got home from work at twenty-to-eight and was in bed by half-past. I’ve given up making excuses.

It’s only a Friday thing. It’s now Saturday, I’m in great form and the words of genius are just flowing onto the page (and off it again, sadly, to be replaced by this shite). The weekend has officially begun.

So don’t worry if I miss the occasional Friday. I’m not sick, I’m just weird (ok, that’s not a good sentence to send out onto the internet, I’ll try again):

So don’t worry if I miss the occasional Friday. I’m not ill, I’m just a bit daft.

(Oh, and the title? Well, the A stands for “Ah”, and the I for “It’s”).