Even the prospect of Friday night doesn’t do it anymore. Its ugly step-sister, Monday, sits on the couch now at 6:45, just before you get ready to go through the door to meet your friends.
—Mom, Can I go out with FridayNight? Monday asks as she sneers as you smugly, her fat little face grinning ear to ear.
—Of course you can, honey, says Mom from the kitchen
And on you go, just the two of you: FridayNight and Monday gone for a big, miserable night on the town, without even so much as a hangover to show for it the next day.