Tag Archives: friday

you’re joking


I don’t understand how so many days can truly exist between Monday morning and Friday at 4:30. It’s like each minute between Thursday afternoon and Friday has its own darn federal holiday.

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Salvador Dali’s Sleep from 1937 illustrates Dali’s vision of using crutches to support us during consciousness, and then removing them during sleep:

I have often imagined the monster of sleep as a heavy, giant head with a tapering body held up by the crutches of reality. When the crutches break we have the sensation of falling. – Dali, The Secret Life of Dali

Right, Sal. I feel the same way about getting through my to-do list before five.

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Jackie Kennedy is an absolute queen. Fine, First Lady, but yeesh!, look how stellar this DRESS IS. Did you know she won an Emmy for her televised tour of the White House restorations she oversaw in the sixties? Gorgeous. Happy Friday.

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I hear you, 18th-century actress Elizabeth Farren. Grab that stole and let’s hustle out of the office early before anyone sees us. That glass of wine ain’t gonna pour itself.

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oath of silence


Please God, don’t say a word to me until it’s 5pm Friday. Don’t say a single word.

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This chick and I are on the same page: Just how many seconds are in the 32 hours between me and my weekend?

115,200. Oh dear God.

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