Oh yeah, baby. It 's Friday, y'all. But does the coming of Friday really mean all that much? As I get older, the arrival of Friday seems to bring less and less satisfaction. It's true that I can go out and party until 6 am without much work-related consequence (like, I won't get fired), but with age comes brutal hangovers, extra dehydration, and the dreaded brain fog that makes even simply existing a trial all its own. Moaning and groaning my way through Saturday and Sunday sounds like hell - a…