Hey you, Thursday. Yeah, I’m talking to you. 

You win. I’m sick and tired of pretending that you’re not the new Friday. You’re the new Friday and Saturday and then some. You’re that accomplishment after Hump Day, that glimmer of hope before finally tucking in your knees and rolling into the weekend. You have me yelling “TGIT” and “making plans” to “meet up” with “friends” for “drinks.” You’re sneaky, Thursday. You’re unassuming, carefree and ultimately free of any and all obligations. No one schedules anything for a Thursday because everyone’s brain is a raisin by Wednesday at 3:31pm. But you, Thursday. You snatch those raisins and make them grapes again. Thursday, OH, Thursday. You’re filled with great primetime television shows, zero inhibitions and my second wind. 

“Sure, I’ll meet you at 8:30pm at the rooftop lounge-bar-nightclub-speakeasy-rave.”

Why? 

“It’s Thursday.”