[This entry is cross posted at ordinary-times.com]

ChatGPT: Write a POETS Day intro

“As the clock edges toward five, a palpable excitement begins to ripple through the office—a shared anticipation, a collective sigh of relief. It’s POETS Day, and the air hums with the promise of freedom, the weekend beckoning like a long-lost friend.

The term itself, a cheeky acronym for ‘Push Off Early, Tomorrow’s Saturday,’ captures a spirit that runs deep in the hearts of workers everywhere. It’s not just a day; it’s a ritual, an unspoken agreement that after a week of deadlines and meetings, the horizon holds something sweeter.

In those final moments before the weekend unfolds, the chatter becomes lighter, laughter echoes a little louder, and the mundane tasks feel somehow more bearable. It’s a celebration of the ordinary, a reminder that amidst the grind, there exists the potential for spontaneity and joy. As the minutes tick down, the office transforms into a launchpad for adventures, big or small, that await just beyond the door. Here’s to the spirit of POETS Day, a nod to resilience and the joy of simply being alive.”

Close enough.

***

I got engaged over Christmas of 2001.  In a welcome flutter of sentimentality, my parents decided they wanted one last trip with a single me. We took off for Ireland a few months later, just the three of us. As much as I love my brother and sister, it was special – a hated word when used in regard to anything bonding-ish so trust that I looked for an alternative but nothing else worked quite as well – just the three of us. We hadn’t been a trio since I was three, living with them in married student housing and then briefly in Birmingham until a sister came along and spoiled everything. She was loud to begin with and later took up the trumpet.