Stop Thanking God It’s Friday
Live Your Life Like Every Day Is Friday
I’ve always said, “Thank God I’m not reduced to thanking God it’s Friday.” When all my friends with “real” jobs say, “Thank God it’s Friday,” I always giggle inside because, thankfully, that was never my lot in life. They’d complain about the long slog of the workweek, counting down to Friday like it was some grand escape. Meanwhile, I could never relate—I was terminally freelance.
I made a decision early on, after dropping out of college, that I didn’t want to be one of those people reduced to thanking God it’s Friday. I remember the moment I coined the phrase—walking past the TGI Fridays restaurant on Second Avenue in New York City in the 1980s, looking at the sad sacks packed in, their weary, overstrained eyes huddled together in what I believed was a ritual—escaping their offices just to eat generic food in a cookie-cutter atmosphere. Was this what thanking God it’s Friday looked like? Oy! I know it sounds bitchy, but it’s one of the many reasons I never joined the so-called “work-a-day real world.”
[SIDEBAR] Oddly enough, the 1978 film Thank God It’s Friday featuring Donna Summer captured this cultural phenomenon perfectly. While some found relief from their 9-to-5 drudgery in happy hour and chain restaurants, others escaped into disco—the real salvation from the grind. Disco was glamorous, free, and transcendent, a place where the worries of the workweek melted under the dance floor lights. The irony is that the same people who spent their weeks shackled to desks were the ones shaking it off to Last Dance by Friday night.
I’ve been freelancing my whole life, except for the time I worked for Carrie Fisher—which, trust me, was as far from corporate as it gets. And it was the most fun ever. No HR department, no soul-crushing bureaucracy—though Debbie Reynolds could be a bit too omnipresent. No, it was constant, brilliant chaos, creative freedom, lots of shopping, and partying like it was 1999—until I finally said to her, “I gotta get out of here. I’m not going to survive all this…stuff.” Gratefully, I did. And a year later, she was no longer with us. RIP Princess Leia.
Being freelance is a ride—sometimes thrilling, sometimes terrifying. Kinda like bull riding. The unpredictability of income, the feast-or-famine cycle, the moments of wild success followed by sheer panic. But honestly? I wouldn’t trade it. Because every day is mine. Have I taken a slew of odd jobs to pay rent or eat over the years—even recently? Yes. For any great length of time? No.
That said, no matter what you do—whether you're a freelancer, an entrepreneur, or someone grinding out a 9-to-5—life always has its ups and downs. Some days, we’re on top of the world. Other days, we’re just holding on for dear life, trying not to get thrown off.
[SIDEBAR] To my fellow writers: We are a clinking, clanking, clattering collection of caliginous junk, where we can either complain that there aren’t enough hours in the day to jot down our brilliant words of sheer genius or we can labor over a 24-hour period and write maybe one word. We can all relate to Oscar Wilde when he wrote:
“I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again.”
So, my wish for all of us, whether it’s Friday, Monday, or some random Tuesday, is that we find ways to embrace the ride. To enjoy the highs, push through the lows, and remember that every twist and turn is part of the adventure.
Because at the end of the day, it’s not about counting down to the weekend. It’s about making every single glorious, what-could-be-our-last day, count.
That said, have a great weekend.
Love…ABE
PS…Speaking of writers…Hello!
yes Thank you Abe !