I have one of those sweet day jobs where I don’t generally have to be anywhere on Fridays. I schedule all the stuff of life outside the workplace in that day—dentist appointments, therapy, trips to the aquarium to avoid the stickiness of that place on the weekends—but sometimes that pesky work thing shoves itself in my Friday face. That’s what happened a couple Fridays ago when I had to be at the Maryland Historical Society by 8:30 a.m.—ungodly, if you ask me.