When I commuted between Southern California and Boston, I finally quit traveling on Fridays, because that Friday thing always happened. Some little incident, accident, impediment to my leaving popped up . . . ah, it was never anything really. On Fridays, things just seem bigger than they are, especially when you’re traveling.

So I decided it was worth it to fly home on Saturday, and it sure was.

That took care of one kind of Friday thing — the people who lined up at the door as I was leaving — people with questions, suggestions, and decisions they felt couldn’t wait.

But it didn’t take care of that other Friday thing — the thought in my head that I wanted to have everything put to bed for the weekend to start. How unrealistic is that?

As the day would wear on little things would seem to get BIG, because of that thought. They got BIG and as a result, I got small.

Until I was lucky enough to find myself thinking this question, “Do you really want to be someone who gets so involved over something so tiny?”

These days I use that Friday question, a lot.