Another Friday. Back when I was working it was the
day of the week to look for. When working out of town on construction,
Friday was payday and the day to go home for a few short hours. Many of
my older co-workers would not make the trip back and forth each weekend,
some choosing to stay away for a month or even more. We younger ones,
especially we whom were married, could not wait to get away from the
work place and on the road toward home. We were often accused of coming
home with nothing but a sack of dirty clothes and an erection. Pretty
much true, too.
Have a great weekend, dear friends.
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