“Hump Day”

Of course, I always thought the term was pretty funny, as a kid, in a pre-pubescent, dirty-ish way. (Insert Peter Griffin laugh, here), ahh “hump day”. Now, I get so thrilled when Wednesday is over. The week shortens, immediately, in my mind. I breathe a sigh of welcome relief. Only a couple more days to go, until Friday night.

In fact, Wednesday is almost like a mini Friday night for me. I let my hair down and start to unwind in anticipation of the lazy couple of days with my daughter and her dad.

Clocking in on Monday, the week stretches ahead of you, like an endless wind tunnel of horror. A faulty one (much like the very pricey “Big Dig”, fellow New Englanders), who might hurl chunks of your hard-earned tax money at you for your efforts.

Clocking out on Wednesday, the week narrows down to a big backyard with the evening fireflies dancing a scene of Sugar Plum Fairies around  the beatific three-year-old who welcomes them to her ranks. Yes, folks, your ‘hump day’ is my glimpse at freedom. For a couple of sun-filled, windowless days, anyhow.


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