February 9

We’ve adopted a manta in this house that goes a little something like “Wouldn’t it be great if the weekend was just one day longer?”

It’s not that I’m not grateful for the two days off — or, at least, the two days not spent in front of a computer, working, which is what’s more realistically the case (There is, after all, always an opportunity to catch up on laundry/dishes/housecleaning/various projects around the house that nag away at the back of your head) — but that I somehow only feel recovered from the previous week somewhere around Sunday afternoon, making the Monday morning that follows feel particularly cruel.

Right now, there’s a sense of denial about it, to be honest; a feeling that I can just pretend that the deadlines that hang over my head already don’t exist and somehow everything will end up okay. Here’s to another week of pretending that work isn’t as bad as it seems, my friends.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Time limit is exhausted. Please reload the CAPTCHA.