I’ve previously divulged that I am of the “non-employed” variety. And to my friends with jobs it always sounds so funny when I say, “God I’mready forthe weekend!” I usually get a snicker/sneer and they’re all, “Um, isn’t every day a weekend for you?” as they roll their eyes. Ha ha ha.

Well…quite frankly…hell no.

I’ve been employed before. Like a real job. The kind that pays you money. I’ve touched on that already. If you need a recap, here you go. So I know all about working and how important the weekend is. Often, knowing that there are two free days waiting for you at the endis all that gets you through the work week. Trust me, I get that.

At my old job Iwas planning my weekend first thing Monday morning and I would ask my coworkers what theirweekend plans were. People thought I was nuts…either that or seriously confused by the whole “days of the week” concept. I preferred to look at it as hopeful optimism that I could force our part of the world into some Twilight Zone timewarp essentially speeding up the first part of the week and slowing down on Friday afternoon just in time for happy hour at Applebees. Have you had their wings? Just sayin’.

And now, for some ungodly reason there is this misconception about SAHM’s. Namely, that we don’t need weekends. Like, we spend so much of our time eating bon-bons and watching soaps (okay, I watch soaps but that’s not the point here), why on Earth would we need a nationally-recognized end of the week holiday?

Well, I’m here totell you why. Because we need a light at the end of our tunnel. We need that release that a weekend brings. We need to know that for 48 blessedhours we can live in ignorant bliss. We need to know that if we have help available (in the form of a reluctant husband or baby daddy) we can call upon that help when we want to spend longer than 37 seconds in the bathroom. I can’t explain it. Sometimes I like to linger.

We like the idea that, perhaps, if it’s our lucky day, the kids will sleep in and so can we! We really like knowing that we can roll through a drive-through for lunch if we don’t feel like slapping together PB&J’s. And, here’s where I get really poignant. We like to feel a little more like you, the employed. For two days out of the week we can blend in. Our yoga pants, hoodies and tennis shoes don’t scream “Look at me…I wear these same pantsevery day.” Quite honestly, we’re afforded a little bit of dignity.

So I would ask of you, gentle “employed” readers, next time your SAHM friend utters the words, “So glad it’s Friday,” give her a high-five and heartily agree. And then ask her to pick up your dry-cleaning. Why not? It’s not like shehas a job.

I leave you with this bit of humor…

“You have to stay in shape. My grandmother, she started walking five miles a day when she was 60. She’s 97 today and we don’t know where the hell she is.” Ellen Degeneres

Happy Friday, Mindy