You spend the whole week, right after waking up on Monday morning, looking forward to Friday evening so that you can finally get some rest and recuperation during the weekend and maybe, also catch up on doing some work that you've been putting off for sometime now. But before you realize it, the weekend approaches, is upon you and is already past as you wake up once again on a Monday morning, wondering where time went.

It's as if there is some sort of a time-warp set to fire around the region of weekends that speeds up temporal flow and leaves you more exhausted than when you started. You can barely get your multitude of chores that are lined up completed let alone have time for leisure. Friday evening is spent dragging yourself home after a week of hard( ly ) work( ing ). You step into your room and see the mess, sigh, and tell yourself you'll take care of it tomorrow. After all, you need to recover and regain your strength before you take on a task of this enormity.

Before you left for home from office, Friday evening seemed to stretch out endlessly ahead; you would be able to achieve everything you'd planned. But as the day ends, you realize it was just an illusion. Friday is over before you know it. As you tuck yourself into bed, you console yourself with the fact that you still have Saturday and Sunday.

Saturday arrives bright and early and full of promise. But you just push it away from under your sheets. It refuses to go away, however, and you wave a finger warningly at it. It still refuses to see light and finally you give in and you have to grudgingly pull yourself out from the warm comfort of bed and head to the bathroom. Sometime later, you emerge refreshed and ready to accomplish all that you have planned and still have time to relax. You head out ( or stay in, depending on the nature of your work ) but of course fate has different plans for you. For reasons that vary, suffice to say that you are unable to complete your list and some work remains for the Sabbath.

Come Sunday, you're up bright and early, anxious to finish of everything and get down to some serious relaxing. As the day passes, it slowly dawns on you that once again, you have been cheated by Father Time and there is no way you will be able to follow to conclusion your chores and unwind. Your shoulders slump in despair and you give up any hopes you were nurturing of a slow weekend. You rush to finish off as much as you can and then quickly try to cram in as much leisure as is possible in the short time remaining; read a few pages of a novel, mail a few people, watch a movie. Then it's dinner and back to bed, to get a little bit of rest for the week that’s coming up.

Weekends seem to come with so much promise but it's always a let down when you finally get around to it. It seems to me that a 5 day week is too much; we should start campaigning for a 4 day week now. But then, work always expands to fill up the time given for its completion, so I don't know how far a 3-day weekend would help. But I'm all for less work during the week anyway! :D

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