Fridays are my days off. I cherish these days.
On Fridays I still wake up at 5am, and there are still a myriad of chores awaiting me. However they do not involve getting ready and leaving the house. They are not associated with rushing madly around trying to leave by a certain hour, and charging all day from one place to another, always alert, always stressed. They involve minor things like shaving my legs and hoovering and putting dishes away at my own pace.
They involve driving my mum to the supermarket and meandering about as she does her shop. They involve washing clothes and tidying up a room that has been trashed by four days of two adults rushing around getting ready every morning.
Small chores. Menial tasks. Sips of coffee. Gentle face wash. Slow application of makeup. Maybe a cake will be baked. Maybe a friend will be visited. Fridays are my break days, the gentle rest before the mad rush of a hectic weekend and the plunge into exhausting Monday again.
So, lately, my favourite day of the week is Friday. Friday is my quiet day. My contemplative day. My day to relax and allow my brain to ..actually… think.
And I really do thank God it is Friday.