There are days when I think Friday will never come. Most people refer to those days as Mondays, but not so for my peculiar (that’s the nicest word I could use) brain. I could be sleeplessly tossing and turning on a Thursday night and still feel that time, unbearable and endless, stretches into some unreachable future.
Somehow, even while days drag on into eternity, weeks will also fly by largely unnoticed until one day you wake up and realize Friday has come at last.
I often wonder if travelling in space is something like this. With next to no landmarks (spacemarks?) to help gauge your speed, it must feel as though you’re not moving at all* … until you look back and see how tiny Earth looks in the distance.
Perhaps there’s something to be learned from this too, as the weekend looms gloriously before us. On the days we feel like we’re plodding along into oblivion, using up all our energy but feeling like we’re going nowhere, there is this comfort — one day we can look back and see how far we’ve come.
*This is (probably) also why it never feels like you’re moving in an airplane once you can’t see the ground whooshing by below you. You just have to picture yourself hurtling through the air in a giant metal tube thousands of feet off the ground. I feel like we should be more excited than we are about air travel. Instead the most thrilling part of the trip for me is usually the free bag of pretzels.