The weakened weekend

We all look forward to the weekend, fondly imagining an endless amount of time to finish all pending work, catch up on much-needed sleep and do all the things we haven't found the time for during the week. What we couldn't manage to do in the 120 hours at our disposal for the five days we are at work, we somehow convince ourselves it will all be seen to during that magically elastic period of time, that is, the weekend.

So, payment of bills, bank work, vehicle registration or tenancy contract renewal, weekly grocery shopping and laundry are but a few of the chores we save up for last. We also delude ourselves into thinking that this time can also be spent sleeping, lazing around as well as socialising. As the week draws to a close, we find ourselves looking forward to the two days off with great anticipation, wishing workmates a cheery goodbye and a good weekend.

We drive home in this feel-good mood, with the heady thought of not having to go back to work for another 48 hours. How we have looked forward to this 'me time'. There is a delicious sense of no urgency regarding going to bed at a reasonably early hour, conscious of the fact that one has to make an early start for work the next day.

So, we stay up to watch that late night movie with no sense of guilt. Waking up the next day at leisure is yet another luxury one permits oneself. So far, so good.

Before one knows it, it is lunch time. And one has just remembered all those jobs one had postponed till now. So, one rushes out to complete all these before the offices or institutions close for the day. By the time one returns home one is a mass of tangled nerves after having to cope with the traffic and parking problems. Not exactly in a mood to appreciate any plans for any more outings just yet, one is assailed by the whingeing of children bored out of their minds and tired of being told to play outside. Where that fictional 'outside' is, no one has a clue. Parents are reminded of reckless promises made during the safety of the week about grand plans for some sightseeing or a visit to an aquarium or the dolphinarium.

Desperation

Unable to brush that under the carpet, the weary driver of the family picks himself up from the chair he has just collapsed into and puts on a brave face, willing himself not to show his desperation at having to take out the car from the precious space he found after driving back and forth for about half an hour. The drive is a silent one, the children cowed into silence by the expression on their father's face which doesn't exactly invite conversation. Only after being told by the wife to try and look a little more cheerful does he try to make a pretence of this being his idea all along.

Soon, the excitement and expectation on the children's faces lull him into a better frame of mind. After a whirlwind of activities the family returns home and he tells himself he still has one more day to catch up on sleep and relaxation. As his head hits the pillow his wife tells him oh so casually that she has invited some friends over for lunch the next day. Seeing the hunted look in his eyes, she quickly reminds him that he was the one who had said they must return the invitation. The next day he is up early to take the wife grocery shopping. The luxury of sleeping in remains but a dream. Obediently pushing the trolley in the supermarket where his intrepid wife manages to make more stops than a passenger train, he thinks longingly of the workplace. It seems such a desirable place just now, where he can sit and imagine a weekend stretching into eternity that only happens in one's daydreams.