One wild Friday night.

Middle age is when you're sitting at home on a weekend night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn't for you.

~Ogden Nash

Anyone who knows me very well can tell you exactly where I can be found on a Friday night. Home. They can also tell you what I'll be wearing. My robe. Friday night is my night to decompress. Nothing makes me happier than to come home from work, change clothes, and know that I am in for the night with nothing more to do than choose between "What Not to Wear", "Cake Boss" or "Say Yes to the Dress". Cold weather brings an added bonus of knowing that I can lay on the floor in front of the fireplace if I want to. And yes, I always want to.

Meals on Friday are pretty easy. Anything that I don't have to fix is fine with me. I will cook this weekend (watch for a new recipe I am trying out). I have one rule for Friday night and that is that I don't exert any more energy than it takes to open a bottle of wine. Tonight it is a nice glass of Pinot Noir, and since Mark isn't home, I am working on getting Kyle to go get us something to eat.

All week long my head spins with phone calls and patients and emails. Friday night makes that all go away. It may not be the most exciting thing, but it works wonders and is cheaper than professional therapy. It has become a joke that if you want me to be seen publicly on a Friday night you have to get to me before 6pm. Saturdays...those are an entirely different matter. I am willing and ready to be sociable on Saturday nights. Just give me a couple weeks notice to prepare...