How do you not on Friday when you are on Monday?

I know how to drink too much Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and to reach a point of internal chaos that borders on madness; that authors regrettable emails, posts, Missed Connections; that yells before it thinks or even feels; that would sell out the whole world for the privilege of collapsing into some pretty lady.

I know how to then wake up on Monday with my stomach torn up, my eyes puffy and tired, my brain groggy and sad; and to then say, “I am done drinking! I am done with this bullshit! I am done wasting my life!”

But that’s Monday morning. How can Monday morning reach Friday evening?

The trick–and let me for jocular cabbie-cap, knickers, big-eyed and buck-toothed jocularity snap my gray shoe-shine rag on your shiny, square-toed, black patent leathers–my friend, the trick is easy: every day you gotta do what you really want to do with your life, make your life full of real life. That way, come Friday: you’re ready for ‘er! Come Friday, you say to yourself: Oh, great, now I have some time to finish that essay, catch up with that friend, read that novel, make that delicious dinner, arrange my apartment just so, do that yoga class I’d been meaning to try … – you see? The trick is to work at enjoying wholesome fun, which you deep down really prefer anyway.

Hmm, yeah, OK.