Alright, kid — up and at it. It’s Friday. The final boss. The last stretch of this marathon week that felt like it had 19 business days in it. And look at you: still standing, still swinging, still caffeinated enough to be legally classified as a small threat. Today isn’t here to break you. Today is here to be finished by you.
So shake off the sleep, roll your shoulders back, and step into this morning like someone who has already mentally clocked out and is halfway to the weekend in their soul.
You’ve survived every ridiculous thing this week threw at you — the emails, the chaos, the people who talk before coffee — and you did it with that signature blend of grit, humor, and “I swear to God, not today.”
Now you get to close it out.
Walk into this day with the confidence of a Masshole merging without looking.
With the calm of an Irish grandmother who’s seen worse and still put the kettle on.
With the energy of someone who knows they only need to be functional for, what, eight more hours?
Maybe less if you strategically disappear for a bit.
Whatever nonsense pops up today, you handle it quick and clean.
No spiraling.
No overthinking.
Just: “Not now, it’s Friday,” and keep moving.
Because tonight?
Tonight you rest like a champion.
Tonight you celebrate surviving a week that tried to chew you up and spit you out.
Tonight you get to exist in peace, knowing you earned every second of it.
But first — we finish strong.
You’ve got the humor.
You’ve got the grit.
You’ve got the spite‑powered stamina of someone who refuses to let a weekday win.
Go on, love.
Show Friday who actually runs this place.
Auntie’s proud of you already.
Add comment
Comments