The Problem With Fridays

My lunch today, very much NOT cheesy enchiladas.


It is Friday! We made it. Like most weeks, we are crawling our way to the finish line. Maybe more so because of Halloween, a few days off from school here, and the time change last Sunday (don’t freak out, it changes this upcoming Sunday in the States). Nevertheless, here we are. So raise those coffee cups!

Chaotic Balance

Friday is a crazy busy day for me here. No matter how much we bust our ass during the week to keep ahead, by Friday it has all unraveled. The kids only have school until 1:00. That doesn’t leave me for a lot of time to get what I need to get done, let alone what I want to get done. Groceries need bought for the weekend or, at the very least, for the day.¬† I try to catch up on the laundry¬† piled high from the week some so it doesn’t call my name all weekend. I try to get the house straightened up, at the very least the bathrooms and our living room. Inevitably, I have to grab a gift, buy someone new shoes, or picked up a package that our postman couldn’t be bothered to deliver. By the time pick up comes along, I am exhausted.

Sure, I could plan better during the week so every Friday isn’t like this. Planning is not really my style anymore though. Truth be told, sometimes I say screw it and do none of these things (Psst…today). I drink coffee and fantasy shop on Amazon for hours, music in the background, enjoying a few hours of peace. We are a regular fixture at our local Greek restaurant on Friday nights. Groceries get bought on Saturday with everyone in tow. The apartment stays in a comfortable state of messy. It is all about balance. Chaotic balance.

Friends, Food, and Laughter

It doesn’t matter which direction my Friday goes in though, it is the hardest day of the week for me. My loneliness is palpable of Fridays. My mind drifts often, no matter what I am up to, to where I would be if I was home. I am always aware that there would be volunteer work in the morning, likely followed by a store run for whatever trouble we were up to. Lunch on Fridays should always be loud and ridiculous, surrounded by the people I adore. We eat too much Mexican and let our favorite waiter talk us into one more margarita, more than once. Play dates at the park after school often lead to late dinners at Skeeters or pizza and card games.

It is my favorite day and here, it feels empty no matter how I fill the day. I am more aware on Fridays more than any other day that I go days, weeks even, without talking to people that don’t share my bed or DNA.

The Price I Pay

If you ask me on a Friday about our time here, I will more than likely avoid the subject. I am not always unhappy on Fridays, quite the opposite really, but my mind always drifts back to Texas.¬† Please don’t confuse my rant for a desire to go home. Walking home from drop off, I still mentally count my lucky stars that we have the opportunity to live here and give the kids this experience. “Holy shit, we live in Europe.” passes through my lips no less than once a week.

Fridays are the price I pay for our time here, a price I gladly pay but it still hurts. It is the day I yearn to talk to my friends the most. The problem being, they are all living their Friday without me and I won’t take that away. I just mark another week off the calendar and hope they save my spot for when I get back.

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2 Comments on The Problem With Fridays

  1. They will save your spot, because while you are missing them, they are missing you, I have no doubts about this.

    Gorgeous post, Copper.

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