I was telling some co-workers this week that Thursdays are my favorite day of the week.  I remember very clearly the night I realized it in undergrad as I sat down to watch ER one Thursday night in my apartment.

I sighed and thought “The week is over.  I made it.”

If you can make it to Thursday night, you can make it to Friday.  And since Friday is pretty much the weekend already, you might as well start it the night before on Thursday.

That’s my reasoning.

Last night I went to a quick happy hour with some co-workers and got to know some new people.  I think what I have loved most about my first year out of graduate school is the feeling of falling in love with this city all over again.  I see a new side of it now that I’m not cramming in papers between babysitting jobs and trying to keep my head above water managing classes, studies, internships and a small, very humble social life.

I almost don’t know what to do with myself.

It was a gorgeous afternoon and the ambiance was really fun.  We sat on the Hard Rock Cafe rooftop at Pike Place and watched the sun set as we debated the age of a hot lawyerly looking guy standing in the corner.  In a wild moment, I nearly abandoned my southern roots to walk over and hand him my number.

Then someone said he looked like he was 24.  Not happening.

Happy Friday.



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