…it was procrastination, if only that was what I feared when faced with tomorrow. If only.
Tomorrow is EXPLOUNDING (I’d like credit for making up this word but some people seem to have used it before…) at me. No, not exploding nor pounding, but the brutal and precise wake-up call, that of the first day of the week. Of the WORK week. Most of the time it’s a monday, you drag your feet (as you like to think, but they are mostly dragging you!), slip them under a desk and start busy-ing.
It’s not the best, but it’s not the worst. Because you had two days to relax, a quick dive and your out, vacation hasn’t been able to lure you into its deceiving abyssal hell of “flutterial-leisure”. It’s not the worst because you start working after only TWO days of weekend. And mostly because I am USED TO that routine.
BUT THIS TIME, it wasn’t two but three. THREE whole days of leisure, of stretching you toes, of getting waist deep into the sweet blissful marmalade of “flutterial-leisure”. Some will say :
“You only say this because you have failed to make the best of it.”
And they could be right, they could be, depending on how the extended weekend goes, one may or may not always be inclined to type up such an incendiary blog-post as this one is! But then. They open their…
Their INBOX! A pandora’s box of limitless frenetical threats to their leisure from bosses and friends life and reality trolls and spams all together united weekly in their editorial cruelty!
And that inbox is usually A THIRD less full after two days of weekend than three. There is nothing anymore to say other than: