Friday is the second-best day of the week. The feeling as the day comes to a close is a euphoric boost that I think I live for. Not to say that I don’t like what I do on weekdays; I very much do, but not as much as I love the weekends.
And I pride on not being alone in this preference. I have a long list of peers that report the same sentiment, and not all of them are as dull-witted as I am.
The funny thing, however, is not that I do something very interesting with my life on weekends either, other than sleeping in for at least 12 hours per day, and the other twelve hours mostly on cooking, eating, transforming my flat from a pig sty to a human habitat, random reading and/or binging on movies or TV series.
Pretty mundane.
Or so I used to think.
Until one fine day, I learned that I might be fit to enter the Guinness book of world records- at least based on the reaction I was getting from my similar peers.
Unoriginally, let’s call them A, B, and C.
A: How was your weekend?
B: Not so bad; I Went hiking with my boyfriend. How about yours?
A: Drove to the animal park with the family, spent the whole day there, Lots of fun!
C (looking for a chance to jump in): Oh yeah? That’s so cool! I went shopping with girlfriends in the morning and spent the day at the mall; it was so much fun, but God, am I so broke now!
A: How about you?
Me (oh my God! What am I going to say, what am I going to say): Nothing much actually; I stayed in, slept 12 hours though!
A, B, C (in unison): 12 hours in a day, wow, so lucky! We haven’t had that much sleep in a day for decades; this must be a world record or something!
So, as euphoric as I feel as the workday comes to a close, on Fridays, I feel the exact opposite on Sunday afternoons.
The weekend flew extra fast, being one reason and the impending work week grind, another.
But that isn’t all.
It’s also about my summary of what I did and didn’t do over the weekend compared to the high-performing weekend-ers that I am pitted against. I tried those weekend outings, but they made my weekend circadian rhythms out of whack. So much to process coming straight out of the weekend!
Talk about Monday blues!
Friends of Words 