The middle certainly is an awkward place to be, as Jimmy Eat World has so perfectly harmonized. The first part of the workweek is over, which signifies a plan of action for the remaining half.

What will we do?

And while this inquisitive notion may appear aimless and elementary, it’s elevated to something quite profound when we pause to realize that this is 48 hours (that’s a long time!) of our lives each week that will be either exhausted with unforgettable memories or remembered as a blur of, well, just a blur of whatever. Friday and Saturday are the universal days of imagination and hopefulness, but why is that? Randomness is one of the most beautifully wonderful forces and Wednesday and it’s fellow mellow days should be privy to this unbridled excitement and wild passion.

Do you ever consider that something incredible can happen on Monday or Tuesday night, but that because it’s a Monday or Tuesday night, that there’s some sort of invisible societal ceiling restricting this excitement from bursting into the night sky?

Yes, we have work in the morning. Yes, we have our routines.

No, this still doesn’t feel right.

Why are we limiting ourselves of our best, most adventurous moments to only two days a week? This blog is absolutely not calling for a seven-day-a-week party, but just to imagine something more out of a “normal” day. Let’s start in the singular sense. When these five days are added up, that’s 120 hours of our time with a few hours of curious opportunity each day. Because maybe, just maybe, the one time you do, you’ll see, meet, do or surprise yourself in ways that illuminate your perspective with colors and a vision you can’t believe you’d been missing all this time.

No legen – (wait for it) dary story has ever started with, “So, I went to work early today” or “I worked late at work today.”

If you play your cards right, you may find the queen of hearts among the king and all of his men.

A wolf gang, if you will.