It’s your weekend face. It’s got Friday written all over it.

And you probably have big things on the agenda for the weekend. Maybe your heading out to the mountains for some skiing, or perhaps you’re staying in town to do the quality time thing with your family. Well, let us say something that’s really been on our minds these last few years. Something that’s been bubbling up inside of us like John Hurt’s spaghetti dinner in that Alien movie.

WE HATE FRIDAYS!

There. We said it. We hate Fridays, weekends and anything that has to do with time off, leisure time, or time spent having a good time. As far as we’re concerned, Fridays suck. Big time.

You see, when you have a job tracking tour dates, like Coldplay doing that special one-off in Vegas on the night before the Coachella Valley Music And Arts Festival, it’s awfully hard to break away from the concert industry data stream and return to the normal, everyday life of living the dream in Fresno, CA. We spend all week immersed in touring data for Adrian Legg, Charlie Hunter Trio and Juliette & The Licks, and when Friday comes around it’s like unplugging the oxygen in the Marlboro ward at the hospital.

That’s because nothing compares to working for the world’s largest third-party concert database. Not hiking, not sailing, nor biking or whaling. Fridays are boring, and weekends blow. We’d rather spend our leisure time pursuing dates for The Black Crowes and Motley Crue, not doing something totally ludicrous. Like having a life.

But there’s no avoiding Fridays. Just like there’s no avoiding Pollstar.com security as they march into our cube farms, unchain our ankle bracelets and send us home to spend the next 48 hours removed from our beloved tour dates. Oh, sure. We’ll go through the motions. We’ll pretend to enjoy being with our family and friends. We may even play a few rounds of golf, or spend a few hours hanging with our buds down at the local sports tavern. But make no mistake about it. We’d rather be here, plugging in dates for The Moody Blues, Nine Inch Nails and Michael Penn. And Fridays? Ha! You can have ’em.

But it’s almost time. At any moment security will be at our cubes to pry our cold, scaly fingers away from our keyboards and send us out into the real world for the next two days. Of course, we’ll beg, we’ll cry, we’ll scream, but it won’t make any difference. Fridays are just one of those things we have to live with. Like warts or constipation. Sure, we’ll miss looking at schedules for Jimmy Buffett and Alan Jackson, but what can we do? It’s Friday and that means we have to go home and pretend that we’re having fun.

Oh, wouldn’t you know it? The weatherman says it’s going to be warm and sunny this weekend. Gosh, talk about adding insult to injury.