There was a time when I couldn’t wait till the end of the week. I loved working five days because those five days led to the best night of the week. It was our night, my girl and I. Date Night.
Look after her I did, fine wine and wine dinning, drinks and dancing, we painted the town red every god damn Friday night.
Young and in love. We couldn’t get enough of each other. I would fly through the week, bulletproof, just to get to those precious hours. You only get 52 of ‘em in a year, they can’t be wasted.
Glory days they were.
It’s more of a battle now, the days are longer but less time to rest. By the time I reach Friday it’s all i can do to make it onto the couch. Same goes for her. Both exhausted. But still in love. Just tired. So very tired. Friday could no longer push us out the door. But we still put aside one night a month, to relive old times. Not so big, not so bold, baby sitter booked in advance.
And that is how the night after Friday got its name. Sadder Date Night.