It's Friday and I feel like if there were even one day left in the work-week, I wouldn't survive it. If, for instance, today were actually Thursday and I had to endure another day, I would fall into a coma around 9:30 a.m. This week hasn't been particularly tedious or long, but that doesn't seem to factor in. The promise of a reprieve always makes the day before almost unbearable. The more vacations I have, the more I need them. I wonder how long I could go without feeling this tired and pissy if I had no vacations at all? What if we had to make use of the edges of our days instead of waiting for (and then squandering) the only two days we think of as useful and pleasant?
I think things would be better if we never had to work at all. I'm tempted to think they'd also be better if we worked seven days a week.
No comments:
Post a Comment