As long as I can remember, Friday is my D-Day; deadline day. Whether it be a cold hard, written in black and white, the buck stops here deadline, or my own imaginary deadline; it is always a Friday.
You would think that after four decades on this earth I would be prepared for the onslaught of Friday deadlines but sadly, I'm not. I am even given a reminder every Thursday afternoon, when the wheelie bins in our street start to roll out in preparation for the Friday rubbish collection. They all sit there subtly prompting me to wheel out my own bin and loudly reminding me that Friday is only one sleep away.
But alas, this morning started as any other Friday. Oldest Son was following me around with his school planner requesting a signature to signify the end of the homework week. Then the normal Friday morning game of wading through the ironing basket for a school shirt began. Why is it that even though he has five shirts there is never one ironed for Friday morning?
Next came the Friday morning list making. I have found that this is the best way to cope with the Friday deadline demands. Today there are a few cold hard deadlines; advertising copy, handbag orders and banking. But then on top of this I have added some of my own deadlines.
Collect dry cleaning, pick up Younger Son's bike wheel after a puncture repair, buy car polish, visit garden centre for flowering annuals, empty the recycling from the boot of my car (that has travelled with me all week), clean the bathrooms, mow the lawn and wash the car.
The stupidity of this list being, any of these items could have been done during the week. Why have they all surfaced on Friday. Take the dry cleaning and the bike wheel for example. The courteous shop assistants asked me when I dropped them off (last Friday of course) what day I would like to collect them. Before I knew it the words "Friday please" came spilling out of my mouth. And how selfish of me; this is also adding to the shop assistant's own Friday deadline crisis.
Then there is the ridiculous pressure I put myself under to have all the domestic tasks done ready for the weekend. Why? It really does not make sense. Husband and Sons will be home all weekend and we all know how they are attracted to a sparkling clean toilet. And the lawn will have those dry left over bits of grass all over it ready for Husband and Sons to walk inside the house. The car always clocks up most of its miles over the weekend and will end up dirty by Saturday evening.
So should I be seeking Friday deadline counselling or maybe I should walk around with a post-it-note stuck to my forehead warning others to not allow me to say "Friday please." On seeking advice from Husband he pointed out that Mother In Law is arriving for a ten week stay, a week on Wednesday. Then the penny dropped - during that week, Tuesday will become the deadline day. This could be my big chance to change my destiny. But after thinking about it I realised that she is not arriving until Wednesday evening. So maybe Wednesday will be the new D-Day.
