Yep. Friday night. I remember in college when the words “Friday night” were spoken with reverence. There was no doubt that whatever happened was going to happen with a belly full of alcohol.

Lots of alcohol.

All this alcohol would be imbibed and enjoyed by me and my friends.

Lots of friends.

Friends who would help goad you into drinking games.

Like “puke for distance”.

Now, here I sit with a pile of papers. Two piles. One marked “budget” and one marked “HIPAA”. I still enjoy the job and all this extra effort is temporary, but when did I get so responsible as to sacrifice the hallowed “Friday night”?

I’m really just writing this down so I can come back to it in a few months and remind myself that I’m doing it because I love what I do, love where I am and work to live. In a few months the mountains will have a few feet of the stuff I moved here for. Then Friday nights will be back to normal.

Share This