This has been such a long week that it felt like Friday today, all day. I couldn't quite get my head around the fact that I still have to work tomorrow. Of course, if I don't work any harder than I did today, nobody will notice. I was in true Friday Mode, kicked up a notch (hi, Emeril) to day-before-vacation mode. And I have no vacation coming up, and it's (I think this is clear by now) not even Friday.

So apparently Friday is more a state of mind than an actual tangible object. To have Thursday feel like Friday is a little like biting into a piece of bark thinking it's a fudge brownie. And then there's the aftertaste, when you realize your mistake.

Well, I never really thought days of the week were tangible objects (especially not brownies) anyway. As I've written in the past, I'm not fully on board with the concept of time and the way we measure it. I think that when you get beyond sunrise and sunset, it's all kind of arbitrary. Even the four seasons are sort of mythical in my world, although I'm sure the folks in Connecticut don't feel that way.

But I guess if we didn't call something "Friday," we'd never make it to the weekend. And there wouldn't be much point in a weekend without the week leading up to it.

I don't get paid for this, in case you were wondering. But I do get paid for pretending to work on a Thursday, even if I treated it like a Friday. Actually, I get paid for working on Friday, too. Let's try to keep the Boss from finding out what I think about that farce.

Today I went to two different grocery stores. One I like for meat and produce, and the other I like for everything else, including the friendly checkers who call me by name. I feel as if I'm courting disaster whenever I drive into a supermarket parking lot. There are a lot of near-misses there (or near-hits; I guess that would be a more accurate term, because they're really actual misses).

Tuesday night when we stopped to get coffee on our way to class, Suzanne and I saw one guy almost back into two different cars, coming from opposite directions. That was entertaining, but he missed both times. I just wonder if he knows how close he came, and if it made him more cautious the next time. It didn't make me more cautious, because I couldn't be any more cautious. That doesn't mean I don't have my share of near-misses, though. Or near-hits.