O.K. now that I got your attention I should add the caveat that I haven’t had a proper job in nearly 18 years. That’s another way of saying that the Friday Feeling feels a little different than I remember during employed life.
Living for the Weekend
Summer 2001. I remember this well. Friday at 3pmi-ish I’d get a surge of excitement for what’s to come — sun, surf, sangria, dancing, dog-walking, delicious tacos. There was serious mucking about. This was the California dream.
Working on the Weekend
Fall 2003. I had taken a £10,000 loan from Natwest (do not recommend that bank) and started my business. Not only did I work Weekends but I worked even harder than during the week. Except for the masses of people who weren't working and sipped lattes — weekends were largely indistinguishable from the workweek for me. I was a poor schmuck.
Summer 2009. After years of trying to run a business with the wrong partner, in the wrong industry, and in the wrong way– I burned the fuck out.
I went back to school to study design and to figure out where I went wrong. Or perhaps why I went wrong.
Turns out my workaholism was a container for my fear of failure. So I decided then and there that I would take Monday mornings for myself to do something I love and start working smart instead of stupid.
Like you, I do love Fridays. There’s a sensation of rinsing off the week much like grabbing a shower after riding the Tube.
But I dread Fridays for one reason: I don’t have that same exhilarating Friday Feeling from back in the day.
While Fridays were once like falling in love each week — blood pumping, adrenaline zipping, the heart lost in the symphony…
…now they're more like a Tuesday date night.
I still dig Fridays, they just don't have lost a bit of their shimmer. And you know what, I’m OK with that because every day feels Friday-ish now.
I’m nearly there. This e month I set out to write an article like this every day. Now 25 days in please consider giving me a clap 👏 to help keep me motivated