I had a three day week at work as my re-introduction to the world of the common working man. It felt I had worked three straight weeks instead. To be fair, it wasn’t the job itself that made me feel this way. I would have felt the same had I been flipping burgers or the executive producer on Donahue. I’m still getting used to the act itself of working. You know, the getting up early, commuting, sitting at a desk for eight hours, and then commuting home again. Did the four months off make me soft? You bet it did. So when Friday rolled around, the phrase TGIF had considerable meaning to me for the first time in many, many months.
As you might expect, I did not do a whole lot on Friday night. I came home and ate the rest of a rack of lamb I made earlier in the week. I then played some video games and went to bed relatively early for me for a Friday night. On Saturday, I slept in but still was able to meet a friend for tea just after noon. I then came home and decided I wanted to enjoy the somewhat sunny day. I went for a long walk in the nice weather. The end of the walk culminated in going to Walmart to get some groceries. A very quiet evening followed though I probably stayed up a bit later than I wanted to. Sunday morning was a bit of a lazy one. I woke up earlier than I wanted to but I just laid in bed surfing the Internet on my tablet. I did, however, get up early enough to get to Stanley Park before 2pm. I did a long walk around the iconic park before returning home to get ready to meet my parents for dinner.
Now it’s bed time on Sunday night. Sundays used to mean nothing to me. It was mainly the night I felt sorry for people who had to go to work the next morning while I was sleeping away. Now, I’m one of those chumps. I get the feeling somewhere out there, there’s some dude who’s feeling sorry for me as he’s getting ready to stay up super late tonight. Whoever you are, cherish what you have!