Ah, Friday.

There is excitment in the air. It is friday and I have the whole day planned. Although I need to walk through the doors of DPA Microphones at 8:00am I will stretch my dreams till about 7:40am. I have my clothes ready bedside in what I call a neat pile (My wife might argue that description). This not so neat pile enables me to throw two legs off the bed and striaght into my pants. I will work my way into a shirt while stumbling into the bathroom to clean my teeth and freshen my breath. Usually I will releave myself of useless fluids and make a decision of whether I will eat a bowl of cereal or just sip a double espresso. I let the dog outside knowing he barely made it through the night without soaking himself in his crate. I fire up my espresso machine and do what I did best for the last five years at Starbucks. Briefly I sit on our black futon covered in white cat hair and talk myself into believing eight hours at work is a small price to pay when it means I can afford to go rock climbing with my wife nine hours from now. I drop my head, stand up, let the dog in, and grab my motorcycle helmet. Ah, it's Friday.

I'll give my bike a little extra throttle as I crouch low and make sure my neighborhood knows that I am a fire breathing dragon on this good day. I don't know if you know anything about motorcycle exhaust but when you have a straight pipe on your bike like I do, life is amazing and angry at the same time. Ah, still Friday.

I try my best to stay focused at work, not letting the teasing weekend throw me off track, but it does. I finish half of what I should get done and leave the rest completely lonely in a dark office for two days. Ah, sweet sweet Friday.

The work day is done and I am on my way home. I have a grin from ear to ear which of course nobody can see because of my motorcycle helmet, good thing cause I look like a crazed lunatic. I jump off my bike and barrel roll onto our front yard like I am Arnold Schwarzenegger in his latest action movie. "Get back to da choppa!" I yell to all within shooting distance. Well, actually I'm lying. I would sound like a comedian, hurt myself and ruin the weekend if I did such a crazy thing so I carefully park in the driveway and work my helmet off. I love throwing my head back like I have long flowing hair which I am sure is quite a sight for bored eyes but I don't care because I am about to give my wife a kiss, drop my daughter off at her grandparents house, listen to loud music in our great white shark of a Volvo 240, and rock climb in one of the best climbing gyms in the country. Ah, I love Fridays.