Waking up and thinking 'Saturday',
Stretching in my bed,
Lazy smile on my face,
Contemplate the day ahead.
A little bit of reading,
Some writing and a drink,
Eating, running, doing naught,
It all sounds good - I think!
But something's wrong with 'Saturday',
Something's not quite right...
It feels like I've got it wrong,
Then the calendar catches the light.
OH SHIT IT'S BLOODY FRIDAY.
Another day of work,
I should've known that I'd not rest,
That work would always lurk.
Hauling ass right out of bed,
The impending work-load towers,
Just tame it all with a happy thought:
It's the weekend in a few hours!
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