Seriously, when folks say, “Happy Friday,” to each other in the work place, I wince. It’s like a tick: a minor spasm that causes my torso to bend over sideways, just enough to throw me off track during my hallway travels, often causing me to hip-check poor Maureen from Purchasing. I swear, it’s not my fault… I overheard somebody say, “Happy Friday,” which sparked a physiological chain reaction where I veer off-track like a derailed locomotive, coincidentally and repeatedly careening into poor Maureen from Purchasing.
Now, I know what you’re saying, “But Merrill, at the stand-up morning meetings that you run, you end them with, ‘Happy Friday,’ you hip-checking hypocrite.” Yes, you’re right, you caught me tricycle-red-handed, but only on Fridays: on Tuesdays, I end them with, “Happy Tuesday.” I do this for every day of the week! And what do I hear in return? Behold my uber-scientific research results…
Happy Monday: Groans and sarcastic chuckles.
Happy Tuesday: Crickets.
Happy Wednesday: “It’s hump-day!” and other commercial camel quotes.
Happy Thursday: “It’s almost Friday!”
Happy Friday: At least one “Woo-hoo!”
f rh. atrhoiu th 2390 fkn fj woij
Sorry, I just twitched.
The attitude of ‘HF’ (abbreviated to prevent tick-induced keyboard mishaps and wardrobe malfunctions) is reflective of our Western work-life modus operandi where you’re counting the hours until 5 o’clock, the days until the weekend, the weeks until your next vacation, the years until retirement – it reminds me of those jail cell scenes where another tally mark is etched into the walls of daily accountability amid discussions of longing for freedom – it’s fucking depressing!
That’s why I greet in the hallways and deliberately end the morning meetings with, “Happy Tuesday!” I’m trying to bring ‘future joy’ into ‘everyday joy’, and am inviting some smart-ass to comment, “What’s so special about Tuesday?” To which I’d reply, “It’s fuckin’ Tuesday! Why not celebrate Tuesday?” And if I can implant that seed to get somebody thinking critically about our perfunctory cycle, interrupting our cacaphonous ostinato like a zen koan, then I’m doing my real job.
Take a quote from Tribes by Seth Godin:
Set up a life you don’t need to escape from.
I get that not everybody has the means or cojones to quit the 40-hour exchange for ‘security’ so that they can travel the country, playing the piano at bars for local beer to then be able to travel the world, lecturing on the musical and zymological landscape of America (totally not my oft-stated retirement plan, nope, not me, y’got the wrong Merrill…) – I get that. Letting loose your true self and fulfilling your passions on a daily basis by crafting your own life is a big and brave leap, which is why not everybody’s a-doin’ it.
So while you’re on your path of getting there, most likely living the Monday-to-Friday slog of employment, please please pretty-please find a way to appreciate EVERY day, especially the ones that end in ‘y’. Do it for yourself.
Do it for poor Maureen from Purchasing.