Elliot reviews three-day weekends





I hate the power a three-day weekend has over me. I long for it. I want nothing more than to spend three days in my house, doing literally nothing. The idea of being bored interests me. It means I can do anything, and I have chosen to do nothing. The freedom of nothing is just that, it’s nothing.

I hate the power a three-day weekend has over me. I plan, sometimes weeks ahead, to ensure I have no plans made. No parties or barbecues to attend, no surprise 84th birthday for my grandma I’m missing. No need to go visit my parents, who own their own free will, I’ll remind you, moved to Indiana years ago, hours away from me and my two brothers. I want to do nothing. I plan to do nothing.

I hate the idea of a three-day weekend. How I look forward to it, how I turn around at my computer desk and look at the years long calendar. Sometime I look ahead, two, three months ahead. Oh, we have an extra day off in four weeks! Whatever will I do.

I hate the idea of a three-day weekend. I hate the 9-5, which is really 7:30-4:30 for me. I hate that We live most of the time on paycheck to paycheck. I hate that I get that happy to have one extra day off in a week. I hate that I think that way. Like a three day weekend is some gift I need to be grateful for.

I hate three-day weekends. It makes Tuesday feel like Monday, and I don;t need that kind of energy on a Tuesday.

Three-day weekends 7/10, not enough to do.

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