The defining moment of every workweek has arrived. The Zoroastrian zenith appears before us as we grab the figurative workaday bull by the horns and administer a devastating judo-flip, effectively turning the tides.
With whatever compensation we’ve been given for our efforts, be them meager or disproportionately large, we will all be unified in our rapid spending come the weekend.
So steel yourself against the remaining hours of this dwindling week, for on the horizon sets the sun of obligation. The crescent moon of weekend revelry is on the rise.