Then in college weekends are irrelevant. Class is 2-3 days a week, drinks are 7. Sure the parties would be held until the weekend, often times but there wasn't a need for that. If someone was to throw a party on a Tuesday night (as we so often did [Cinco de Mayo, Mardi Gras*, etc.]) you'd go.
*
Being a film student, weekends often spelt out work. Class in the week, set on the weekends. 12 hour days Fri-Sun. Hardly a break. Weekends weren't a necessity, they weren't the breath of fresh air that they have so quickly become in what I shall hesitantly call "the real world." I know, I know - the world I experienced for the first 22 years of my life was indeed real as well. But this is what all the old folks call it, and I guess I'm one of them now.
Weekends are a must.
The tingle begins at about 5 on Thursday night. Here I am, sitting in my cubicle and suddenly- I'm giddy. I'm fuckin' ecstatic. I couldn't peg why. I got off work, went out and stumbled back into my apartment at 2am last night.
Yes, I still had work today. Water, tylenol, and a loaf of bread later, I've rid myself of my hangover and an eagerly anticipating the real weekend. Thursday are the pregame to the weekend. They're the night I'm not ready to give up, but will if I have to. If you tell me to give up Friday or Saturday night - I'll laugh at you.
Weekends for the first time, are a must. I won't schedule anything work related, and rarely even something brain related on my weekend. It's my time to sleep in, to do nothing, to drink, to party, to swim (and occasionally to run errands since there is NO time for that in the week). It's my time to see friends and have a social life.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to say with this blog, just that I have a new appreciation for the weekend, I guess.
That being said - Its 6:30 on a Friday night. I'm out of here-
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