Happy Friday.
That salutation has become like a ritual, in part to celebrate the end of the work week but also to emphasise change.
With time currently having little meaning, where every day is like Groundhog Day (great movie by the way) close of business on Friday doesn't just mark the end of the work week but also a transition to the only thing that feels different in lockdown.
Monday to Friday my time is dictated by my job, by the rota. When I get up, when I go to bed, when I have lunch, they are connected to something beyond my control, fitting within certain brackets. Not so at the weekend.
Close of business on Friday marks the change to an element of freedom, it is a vital distinction among days that would otherwise all be exactly the same. I can handle isolation, it's the monotony of lockdown that gets me.
Stay home, save lives, go insane. 1
So, rather than just welcome the end of the work week I celebrate Fridays with a little more gusto, attribute a little more meaning to their passing. For just an all too short couple of days things are slightly different.
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a play on the UK government's coronavirus message: stay home, protect the NHS, save lives ↩