If tomorrow wasn’t Friday, I’d become guilty of voluntary manslaughter.
If tomorrow wasn’t Friday, I’d be streaking up and down the hallways of my work building, laughing like a maniac, passing out killer bees like party favors and tripping people with phonetically placed vowels.
If tomorrow wasn’t Friday, I’d be sharpening wooden pencils and dipping them in Poison Arrow Frog toxins. People would Croak. 🐸
If tomorrow wasn’t that glorious day, I’d make a life-size paper airplane and fly away. So long, suckers!
If tomorrow wasn’t the Fri-to-the-day, I’d find myself beating my head against the computer screen. More work would get done that way than waiting for Susie and Pete to give me excuse #11-80-and-3.
If tomorrow wasn’t the weekend, well, I just wouldn’t be pleased.