Many of my Facebook friends & family, as well as my IRL friends & family, are subjected to crazy, funny quips about my extreme dislike (hate is such a strong word) for Mondays and my extreme LOVE for Fridays. While it seems like such a stretch from one to the other, they actually go hand in hand.

Yeah, you confused yet?? Good! Hold on tight as I attempt to guide you through the purple rai….I mean…my crazy brain.

I had read somewhere that a person should not live just for the weekends (who said it and where I saw it kind of escapes me at the moment). I completely agree with that. Every day is a blessing and just another chance to be a blessing to someone else. Anyone that has gone through a life-altering event or has watched someone close to them go through a life-altering event can attest to the fact that every single day on this earth is precious and a merciful gift from God. Experiences, memories, friendships, family (yes, even the dysfunctional ones) make up where we’ve come from, who we are and where we’re going.

However, I wish I could have known then what I know now. I was completely oblivious to this knowledge when I was a teenager. My parents divorced right before I hit puberty. It was a very difficult time allllll the way around. My middle school (junior high, we called it….AND I walked barefoot both ways, up and down the hill…ok ok nevermind) and high school years were tough to get through. Needless to say, my mother and I butted heads like two male battering rams fighting over territory! What we were actually fighting over was control. Control over my life because I wanna be the one in control (20 points for Gryffindor if you got that 80’s reference) and she didn’t want me to go down the same path she did.

Even though I was a smart cookie (winks at my junior high friends), I did not apply myself and my grades weren’t the best. So, home life wasn’t great and school career wasn’t great. My only joy was found in being with my friends (most of you are nodding your heads right now, aren’t you?!) and music. With the strict rules my mother had, the weekends were the only times I could plan to be with my friends. I would spend most of the week making plans with friends and if I wasn’t grounded for one reason or another, funville was on my radar for the whole weekend. Well, after cleaning the house on Saturday mornings and church on Sunday mornings. Being with my friends at the skating rink, a party or at their house was my escape from the craziness that I felt was in my life at the time.

Fridays have become to represent a kind of freedom to me. A time to do the fun, crazy things that are put off during the week. A time to make memories, sing songs out loud with the windows down and the person in the car next to you thinks you’re a little touched (wahhhat?? another 80’s song reference???!! stop it, crazy 80’s lady!!!), hug & kiss on your special someone, lend a helping hand, learn something new, give God the glory, take a nap.

Poor Monday just gets the bad rap because once it rolls around….the kibosh is put on all the stuff that I’ve looked forward to all the previous week.

So, if Monday could just become Tuesday…that’d be great.