*blows dust off her Substack* Hello. Yes. I’m here. Oh, you weren’t waiting for me? Well, okay then.
I’ve spent most of the last year planning a conference, and really much longer than that: this journey started five years ago, when the original bid was awarded, I volunteered to co-chair the planning committee, and the conference ended on Monday, June 5, 2023, closing a very long and confusing chapter in my life. While I managed to hang on to a sense of normalcy until late April, the conference planning wave I’ve been dodging finally swallowed me whole, and I had no choice but to abandon any part of my life which wasn’t necessary to me remaining alive. Now, as I emerge from the conference hangover, I get to do things like vacuum and finally book a hair appointment, since I haven’t had a haircut since October.
Why yes, I did let conference planning eat my whole life in tiny increments until it was too late. I also need to clean my tub and shuffle my wardrobe for spring/summer and clean out my fridge and basically tidy my whole life, including my office (I stopped opening any mail that didn’t look immediately important sometime in mid-April at work. Being a solo librarian is great).
But as I slowly emerge from the rock I’ve been living under, as I learn to find myself again, I have realized something. I’ve become That Person. You know, the person who says trite things about working in the hallways as you greet them, the person who laughs with the others in the elevator despondently about Monday, the person who hangs their whole soul on the dream of Friday. I say things like “living the dream” when asked how I am by people I only see in the hallways at work.
I am a Monday to Friday, 9-5 (8-4, actually) cliche.
I am horrified by this.
I didn’t want to become this person! I swore I wasn’t going to be someone whose only personality trait was having a drink Friday after work. I was going to resist. I was going to have more in my life that the thrill of French fries in the cafeteria on Thursday, and I wasn’t going to dread any particular days because of what the calendar says. And I did resist, successfully, even through COVID, even through a period of very low mental health, but I didn’t make it through conference planning. Conference planning turned me into a Friday person.
On Fridays, I could close my email with a sigh of relief. Anything that happened would be dealt with on Monday. Anything that someone wanted me to make a decision about could wait. I didn’t have to email anyone a reminder or a question or start another thread in preparation for the co-chair weekly meeting. I didn’t have to respond to action items from our full conference planning committee meetings. Oh, and also, you know, my real job.
On Fridays, I could go to the grocery store and then head home, to do yoga, eat supper, and flop on the couch. On Fridays, I had the magic of 48 hours to do whatever I liked until I had to go back to work again. At this current juncture in my life, I have no kids, my partner lives in another city, and weekends that we don’t have plans or a visit are ones that I am free to only please myself. There are things I have to do (laundry, cook, bare minimum life admin), but otherwise my time is my own.
Slowly, over these months of stress and planning, I have come to cherish my Friday nights in as my own sort of observance, akin to something religious in its regularity and with the reverence I treat it. Friday nights are the best night of the weekend to me, full of possibility and promise, and while I started pointing myself in this train of thought during the acute phase of the pandemic, I finalized my love of Friday nights during conference planning. When I was feeling bogged down and overwhelmed, I longed for Friday night, when I could curl up under a blanket on my couch and be alone.
During conference, when I had a second to think about what my days would be like after it was finally over - and I do mean I only had one second during that time to think - I thought about that first Friday night at home. No plans, no obligations, just me and the need for rest. I took a day off after the end of conference but then marched myself back into work, which was a mistake, because I’ve been so drained all week. So once again, I hung my hat on Friday, believing it would cure all of my ills.
It didn’t, of course. It was just an evening at home. I picked up some groceries and drove home. I spotted several American license plates in the grocery store parking lot near my house; the tourists are back in heavy numbers. I ate my supper, I did yoga, I poured myself the last of my favourite lemonade, I played Stardew Valley, I changed my bedsheets to start off the weekend with that perfect crisp sheet feeling, I read, I went to bed early. Unremarkable, really, as I wrote in my journal.
I’m going to start decoupling all of my hopes and dreams from Friday night. I think it’s good to have a regular time in your week that’s all yours, if you can manage it, and certainly I have the privilege to do that. I will still probably cherish my Friday nights in, and enjoy them fully. But I’m going to remove the vocabulary of longing for Friday from my mouth, and stop always waiting for Friday. There are good things in other days of the week, if I choose to look for them. Somewhere along the way, I tossed that aside because it felt like another burden on my to-do list. Friday night is lovely and indeed full of possibility, a doorway to 48 hours of possibility. But it’s not the only possibility.
It will be interesting to see if this experience brings about any other lasting changes. Congratulations on finishing!
Yes, I have been waiting for you. I have missed your Subject Headings the last few weeks. They have become something to which I look forward. I appreciate your humour and your honesty. Something more of us need to find a way to express.
So, let me publically say how proud I am of you for taking on the role of Co-Chair of Planning for the conference. Like everything you do, I expect the conference planning was exceptional. With the passage of time, your learnings will provide you with new perspectives.
As for your Fridays, enjoy them for what they are; a moment to reflect, recharge, and release.
By the way, you did not miss anything when you were busy focusing on the conference. The weather did not provide much opportunity to kick start spring, so like you, my list of to do's remains incomplete. Maybe I will get the flower beds started this week.
There will be mini eggs here waiting for you on your next visit!
Looking forward to your next Subject Heading!!