Every day should be at least partly Friday
Every Day Should Be at Least Partly Friday: A Whimsical Take
Ah, Friday—the great British cheerleader that turns our dull drudgery into a grand festival of freedom. Imagine a world where every day, even the early‑morning weekdays, dip‑in‑dip‑out in the same electric ambience we normally reserve for the weekend’s golden hour. A world in which each morning starts with a splash of “yes‑this‑is‑a‑Friday‑afternoon” and ends in the comforting glow of the great blue‑turquoise Friday sigh.
Why does Friday feel so special? It’s not merely that the clock strikes five and we’re free to indulge in our favourite hobbies. It’s a dose of collective, caffeine‑boosted optimism that stains our tea cups, the unmistakable buzz of a pub‑lounge crowd, the soft, romantic jangle of a classic lorry pulling through a sleepy street, and the sheer instinct to turn a dull Tuesday into a shelf‑stocked lunchbox of fish‑and‑chips and mint jellied eels.
1. Start the Day “Flavour”‑wise.
Our morning meal, whatever it is, must carry a hint of the late‑afternoon clips you’d serve at a true Friday. Add a pinch of salt, a dash of citrus zest, and crumble in a handful of crushed crumpets. The smell alone will seep into the air like a promise that happiness is on its way.
2. Adopt the ‘Friday Amusement Royalty’ Attitude.
A simple shout, “Good morning, good morning!”—with the infectious pat on the back you’d hear at a soccer match—flattens the bureaucratic walls above our heads. Add a dollop of British humour, and in no time we’re laughing at a dead‑panned quip about a croc‑tender sandwich.
3. Corral the Clock Into a Saturday‑Be‑Happy Moment.
Staffing a rotating agenda from nine to twelve with hourly toasts to a workers’ “stick‑and‑peek” joke or a quick “who’s bringing the croissants?” keeps the day united under the flag of the Friday festival. Drinks lights up like a Saturday night neon club, but the buzz is ours and it’s template‑free.
4. Compute a “Friday‑Time” Break.
Everyone paused once or twice to reach the kitchen and pour tea or cocoa for the break‑room. The equipment is stocked with biscuits and brownies for that level‑of‑cheergiving. The only other “Mondays” we need are the lunches that come in at 12:30 for the Reddit-Bag people.
In a world that never, ever is all‑grown‑up, but gets a shine across every Friday, we get the best of both worlds. The short nod at a colleague who has both a task list and a personal message about how they had forgotten that it is a pretend‑Moonday that they had organised for the French at 5pm. And that actually does right: we’d otherwise ditch our pens on the office floor, tired mavic.
So, my friends, we ought to adorn the office environment with a six‑month rainbow umbrella to save only Thursdays, but in practice it’s fantastic to keep the twenties of the week at a pie‑full of things that are actually “Friday.” And you will always appreciate the wild twist that the sunny de‑afternoons of the week high‑nosed a delighted Friday. Cheers!
