Monday, June 24, 2013


The alarm clock on my
dresser is the death knell
of “weekend me” and the
resurrection of “weekday

Weekend me is fun and lazy
and carefree. Sleeps late in bed
or on the couch, no one really
cares. Spends too much
money on frivolity and laughs
like a maniac for hours.

Weekday me is sad, morose,
annoyed and grumpy. I have
to go to bed early and get up,
early. I have to try very hard
to find my smile.

I’ve never been a weekday
person. I’d prefer to stay a
weekend guy. That guy has
fun and adventures and could
actually spend time on doing
things that have meaning, in a
soul searching sort of way.

Weekday guy would prefer
to just not start sweating when
the bus is running a few minutes
behind schedule. Weekday guy hates
you. He hates everybody. He’s mean
and if he were an old man he’d swat at
you with his cane and curse at
you in some “Old Country” language.

Weekend me, he puts on a
Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses and
disappears for four and a half days while
Weekday me limps about town cursing
the very nature of the universe; frowning at
smiles and furrowing his brow with

A grump of the highest degree.

All hail the return of weekend me. 

No comments:

Post a Comment