The grey divide between days and ends

Weekend blues, have you ever heard of them? Thought they only existed on Mondays? Think again.

Saturday and Sundays are supposed to be passed with a deliberate dreaminess. Lower the intensity of weekdays by a notch or two. Slow things down and take time to smell the roses.
Monday to friday flashes by in a blur, things are done hurriedly; little time to breathe. to pause. even for a second of day's dream.

Come weekend. Coffees are supposed to be sipped, biscuits nibbled in slow mouthfuls whilst reading the saturday papers. Mornings should be spent lazily; idly. Afternoon are for seistas and teas or watching recorded television programmes on HBO. Evening comes, and it's time for a family dinner around the table.

But no.

Saturdays and Sundays are just as hectic as Thursdays. They're just as long as Wednesdays. The week's end almost feels like the week's days. Trudging and pulling heavy commitments and endless workload; desperately searching for a point to finally rest the tired limbs and soul.

Where did the weekends I used to know disappear to.