International TGIF day?

Given the fact that Dad managed to get himself yet another sick-leave (and I'm positive it's some ruse he and some friendly doc are cooking up, because nobody gets so many days ever so often for a hurting wrist), my options to reach the office were either take a caravan of buses or ask a coworker to give me a ride. Since this particular coworker, Smurf, pointedly asked why have I stopped going with him, I decided to call him and ask him if he can give me a ride. Well, that and the fact that his girlfriend is simply adorable and the sweetest, most precious person I have met made me jump at the open offer and call them early. Andy, the adorable Smurfette, picked up the phone and said, God bless her tender soul, that sure thing.

So they gave me a ride. After greeting, Andy's first comment was "Finally Friday!" with such a festive, happy countenance as if it were some long awaited holiday. Then again, for a Friday that's not an unusual expression, but it struck me that gathered, overworked, quite Andy would make such an enthusiastic exclamation before me, after all we are not kin nor we are coworkers or best friends, just friendly acquintances. Perhaps what struck me was the source, not so much the content of the exclamation or the tone itself. Well, Patrick knows. Either way, surprising or not, it was  - well - a true statement.

Then, after fulfilling my due-diligence with a task left from yesterday (Oh dear Patrick, Carrie!!! It was so AWESOME!!! Gonna go over it again and again and again! Totally... wow!), I leaped up to the net, came here and what do I see but Dragonfly also celebrating the Friday. My coworkers also, in disorganized chorus, sighed this day with relieve and joy, planning even, signing up to a hearty lunch complete with a good, cool bottle of beer. On a week day? Never. On Friday? A must.

I myself, since I don't have any date with any of my friends - sad but true -  was thinking about tying my weekly NCIS with a nice, cold bottle of Smirnoff Ice. (I'm not much of an alone beer drinker, but I totally adore drinking Smirnoff while watching TV.) It is Friday after all and the world seems to be consumed in celebrating it, so why wouldn't I? (Specially when tomorrow I'll have this AWESOME 4-5 hour White Collar marathon?) So, in face of the facts presented, yes, I will celebrate this Friday, and hope everybody else is also up to do so.

Once again a week has gone by without me either mailing Calendulina's letter nor getting on with Sonja's letter. It has gone by without meeting with Shimmy Gin, whom I'm missing like Hell, not meeting with Carrie, and boy we need to meet! Then again, Carrie and I fixed this thing yesterday over a one hour phone conversation: we will meet on Monday in order to gap about how awesome this week's and last week's Supernatural episode was (hope this week's is good, 'coz ain't haven't seen it yet, but last week's was a freaking Oh-Dear-Patrick! with all the "Your demon lover, Brady" and "Did you kissed him?" and holding, grabbing, pulling, trumping over each other and awkward hand landing on hip-ass- upper (VERY UPPER) thigh. One word there, I don't know about Dean, but Jensen did lost all his male-touch-virtue (if such a thing exists) there), and then delve into the Sweet-Patrick-White Collar-is-heaven-and-Neal-is-awesome followed by the deep, intellectual, philosophical discussion over whether Neal Caffrey is or is not one of the Ukes of Destiny. My money is on "yes", and I'll do my best to prove my point. I mean, he is not a Mochizuki, that's granted - though if you look up to it closely.... - but he is quite Ryo Maclean quite often, or a Draco-in-Draco-Snape, as we concluded yesterday, and he can hardly go seme, specially when he bows to El, so yeah, he IS a total uke. But that is next week Monday. This week Friday is "pass da booze, brotha!"

Peace out.

P.D.: Thanks to Smurf for providing a picture of the Smurf-mobil.