Sunday, August 10, 2014

August 10. Day 222. Sunday, bloody Sunday

 It's not that I hate my job - most assuredly I do not - it's that I enjoy the weekends more than the work day week. It's true that the lines between them have blurred with the phrases such as flexible workplace and work/life balance creating added freedoms during the week but added burdens on the weekend as a consequence. But while I often work on the weekend - it's a choice and I very often choose to prioritise family time. This is time to treasure and make the most of, except I often don't.
Sunday afternoon, every Sunday afternoon, I get a sense of clouds descending. Instead of making the most of the final hours of the weekend I feel the shadow of the working week creep across the sky. I feel the bad moon arising. I really need to look for a silver lining in those clouds. Let's face it, most people in the world would kill for the sort of job opportunity, conditions and pay I have even with the marking. Remember that, Sunshine.

1 comment:

  1. Meh, I get it. It's a horrible feeling. I haven't had the Sunday feeling for five years as I've not worked Monday since before having The Boy, but in September I'll be working the first half of the week. I'm also aiming to get all work done on that Thursday and Friday so I can have the weekend free with family. I do however know that there'll be the Sunday evening panic and assessment of having everything ready.