Welcome to Friday, ladies and gentlemen, the day in which we rejoice in having lived through another work week, the day in which we ask ourselves: Is it too late to marry well and quit our jobs?
The answer, unfortunately, is yes. It is too late.
But what of my questions regarding the weekend? Is there still time to catch up on Mad Men? Should I clean my house? Should I attend the semi-quarterly, semi-questionable Saturday Bloody Saturday Bloody-Mary-a-Thon on, you guessed it, Saturday?
The answer to these and other questions are at our fingertips.
Say hello to my little friend: my iPod, set to shuffle and played during my morning bus commute not only lends a soundtrack to the backs of the heads of my fellow commuters but offers compelling insight into the days ahead.
I Want You (She’s So Heavy) by The Beatles
The Puzzle by Brother Ali
Jesus Left Chicago by ZZ Top
Never Do This Again by The M’s
Pinball Wizard by The Who
Ace of Spades by Motorhead
Hmm. “Yes” on the Mad Men. “Ask Again Later” on the cleaning of the house. What about the Bloodies, though? Dagnabit, this is a tricky one: heavily British, although Brother Ali is from Minneapolis, and while Jesus may have done left Chicago, I hear he’s bound for New Orleans…
Perhaps we move on. Perhaps it will be revealed...
Fridays are, across the U.S. of A., and around the world, for all I know, known as an office’s “casual” day.
And by “casual”, we mean in dress.
I was 19 years old at the time of my first full-time job. The 19-year-old Pearl was not an altogether thinking person, prone to impetuosity and foolish choices in attire. My interpretation of my first “Casual Friday” – back at a time when we office minion were required not only to wear nylons with our skirts (bare legs were unprofessional) but also, closed-toe shoes (toes were seditious), and wimples, as I recall – was to show up dressed in heavily embroidered jeans, four-inch wedge heels, and a sleeveless shirt that stopped being solid material just below the bra-line and from there dissolved into fringes to just below the belly button...
It was impressed upon me – both verbally and visually – that this was inappropriate work attire, although I seem to recall the all-male engineering department insisting that it was the only appropriate thing that had happened for days.
Things have changed, as they are wont to do. Here at Acme Napkins and Grommets Casual Friday is in full swing – the execs have ordered their shirts with “light starch”, normally reserved folk hint at off-work preferences via jewelry choices, and those freshly out of college are wearing rubber flip-flops and tee-shirts that came free with certain liquor purchases.
Me? The belly-baring shirts of my youth have been retired, out of respect for the viewing public; and the thought of wearing a Jagermeister tee-shirt to work makes me as nauseous as the drink itself.
I’m a bit nostalgic for being clueless, though. There was something freeing about being slightly unconscious about how people perceived you. If only I could get that feeling back...
Oh, hey! Guess I just got my answer regarding Saturday Bloody Saturday. The answer is yes, go.
The iPod moves in mysterious ways.
11 hours ago