The Cry of the Proletariate

Today, we sit on the helm of a fantastic time in life. It's when the worries of the weeks simply melt and dissipate into a sea of ambiguity. Where how many reports I scanned are evicerated into nothing. Where gossip only matter to those who care.

It's a time that blends so smoothly that you almost forget that you actually have responsibility. It makes one feel proud of the job they have done. People have been known to go crazy, lose their minds, even take their own lives waiting for it. Managers battle against it, the common worker pangs for it and productivity bows in subservience to it.

What am I talking about?

I'm talking about Friday, ya'll.

I mean, it's something to look forward to, isn't it?