I hear the rain falling on the pavement outside, like a million tiny beads landing on glass. It's muted, soothing, comforting.  This is suddenly the best part of my day. Here, at home in my pajamas. With a fourth of a bacon cheeseburger and a few stalks of steamed broccoli spears in my belly, I am slightly sleepy but not quite ready to lie down.
Parts of my day still swirl around in my head. The sweet chocolately taste of the grande white mocha that shot adrenaline and courage through my veins at work this morning. The irritation that a colleague's incomplete work adds to my own inbox.
The creeping anxiety that slithers toward me as the clock inches toward my 5pm deadline.
It's all there, parts of my day playing in vignettes
in my mind.
I remember the drive home, the beautifully angry sky competing with the road ahead for my attention.
The stop into the boisterous, aromatic restaurant for my bagged and ready to go dinner.
The voices of friday night diners, clash with bad music and blaring sports channels,  I'm glad to be taking my meal home.
Home, where an old leather couch,  cable free TV and 3 sweet souls wait for me.  It is the light of the end of the tunnel that has been this day, 
Now I am here, clad in pj's and contentment.

Friday night is here at long last.