This morning I wake up with glorious purpose.

It’s Friday which means I don’t have to work tomorrow.

As I think about the coming weekend, I mull over things I had planned to do.

Sleep, perhaps?


That’s a bit of a joke for me.

I’ve always been as early riser, and now that’s coupled with naps at odd intervals.

The key is not becoming frustrated and only going to bed when you need to.

The thought occurs to me that at this point in my career, that I might be an excellent shift worker.

I think back to my father, and his 35 years working in a blast furnace mornings, afternoons and overnights.

All the physically debilitating work he did, sometimes taking two buses each way so that my mom could have the single family car.

He never once complained about it.

He’s a good man.

And tough in every sense of the word.

If I had to work nights, in a blast furnace, and come home to four children, I’d probably die.

I’m not a physically strong work mule like my sister, who I’m pretty sure moves furniture around for sport.

But I try.

I’m stronger at delegation.

That’s a true story.

So, with the weekend pending, I think to specific plans.

Despite being off from my paid gig, it’s a bit of a working weekend for me.

For the next few Saturdays, I’m involved in a course that will assist in the development of a community based project.

Very cool, however, being in a classroom for a scheduled period of time feels like having to go to work for me.

The day after that, I am attending a Bridal Shower.

Reasonably cool, but still feeling like the pending pageantry associated with this kind of event is like being at work, especially because people from work will be there.

I love them all dearly.

That was written in case some bother to read today’s post.

I digress.

What do these two seemingly unrelated weekend activities have in common?

There’s a sense of duty.





That’s the Italian word for it.

It’s the reason you go to a visitation for the parent of a friend you rarely see;
A weddding for a former coworker;

Work everyday.

There’s a feeling inside, likely some type of moral compass that compels you to participate in these types of activities.

You want to see the people you left behind at the wedding;

You might want to catch up with an old friend;

You enjoy the concept of getting paid.

You know I will harass you if I see you frequently and you don’t read my blog.

“Facciamo Dovere” is the phrase, to perform the act of obligation.

And what a perfect translation that turns out to be.

Oftentimes, when you are in the process of “Dovere” there’s some type of performance occurring.

Also some type of mental bargaining;

“We’ll only stay until the first dance”

“Let’s go to the visitation because it’ll be quicker”

“I’m going to take my full hour lunch today!”

We tell ourselves these things, so there’s assurance the activity will be ok.

As a worst case scenario, our hesistations become a reality.

The dovere is as horrible as we thought.

Most of the time, the dovere ends up being an enjoyable activity.

Like reading my blog;

You might not want to, but then it’s always a pleasant ride.

Happy Friday.



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