Sundays

I hate Sundays. I don't understand why more people don't feel the same way. I don't know why Monday is the hated day more than Sunday. At least Monday is being honest about what it is. Monday is a work day. Everyone knows that you have to be at work and that the weekend is over. But the fact is that the weekend is already over halfway through Sunday, only it still feels like a weekend.

Take this past weekend as an example. It's a fairly bad one, since I was sick on Thursday and Friday and therefore had a long weekend (most of which was spent in bed) anyway. But nonetheless, we will use this weekend as the example for this point. Saturday is the day for doing things. You have a braai with your mates, you party it up, or, as was the case this weekend, you drive 130km to Port Elizabeth and 130km back to fetch a friend from the airport and thereafter go out and party it up. Basically, whatever you do, you expect Sunday to be a write-off. You expect to spend it relaxing, maybe lying in bed and reading a book. But what you forget is that after the partying on Saturday you are unlikely to wake up before noon, in which case half of the day is already gone, and there is nothing constructive that you can really do with the rest of the day because tomorrow is back to work. Even if you do wake up at the crack of dawn (in our case, 7:30) and drive 40km to Port Alfred to go canoeing, have a lovely lunch at the Microbrewery and then head back to town around 2pm, the same feeling will dawn on you. Half of Sunday is spent realising that tomorrow you have to be back at work, and the feeling of the looming Monday takes over before the Monday even begins.

It is the curse of the weekend. No matter how many weekends you experience, it all ends with the same feeling. Whether you are a student or part of the working force, you will always spend the last day of your weekend feeling slightly miserable that the weekend is over.