A friend (new GOO devotee Aaron Weiss) once said he had read about a psychological study that found people don't feel like they've had a weekend if they didn't have free time on Friday night. That was my experience this weekend: At the office till eight, then sitting down with pizza and a DVD only to nod off on the couch by nine thirty. I may have woken up refreshed on Saturday morning, but there was this crushing feeling that the weekend was almost over, that sort of numbing dread you feel every Sunday night an hour before bed. I trudged through the weekend working on various tasks and got plenty done, but it never once felt like a weekend.

And the sad part, besides all of it, is that I took out my frustration on myself. I denied myself fun, forcing myself to work on projects to "make the most of it" as though it was a curse to have free time but not enough of it. When Sunday night came, I kept staying up later and later, refusing to go to bed because I felt "cheated" out of my weekend. I entered enough goos into the site to last through September, but by the time I was done it was time to get up and go to work (I needed a six o'clock start that morning for complicated reasons) so I just got dressed and went. All day long, the office spun on an invisible axis while I waged war with my eyebrows to keep them open, and though I tried to blame myself or promise myself I wouldn't do it again, I couldn't. Why do we take out our frustrations on ourselves and only make things worse?


One Reply to Weakened

Jackie Mason | August 17, 2006
[hidden by author request]


Logical Operator

The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

R.I.P. Russ

Twelve years after losing her mother, Kelly has now lost her father too. This loss was a quieter and tidier affair, partially due to Russ not wanting a funeral or wake, and partially due to his very strained relationship with Kelly in recent years. We waited a few days to work out the trip schedule, flew up there, had a nice little graveside gathering with immediate family and then lunch out, spent time seeing the old hometown and Russ's new adopted small town (oh how I don't miss driving for hours through corn fields to get literally anywhere in Illinois), and returned with lots of tasks for Kelly to do to resolve the estate. Go »

Home Computing

Any time I get frustrated with how slow my computer seems these days, I just remember that it could be worse. Thanks, Marlon. Go »

The Phoenix

This is the last of four weekly blog posts about diagnoses that have completely changed my life since the pandemic started, after The Dragon, The Tiger, and The Serpent. I saved the lightest one for last. Many people who discover later in life that they're neurodivergent have reported spending years aware of the symptoms and signs of their condition without ever considering that the description might apply to them, and when they do finally realize, it's as if a thousand mysteries are solved at once: Things that never made sense are all suddenly explained. Go »

March 14, 1977

I hope this doesn't set a precedent for doing this on everybody's 30th birthday, or I'm going to be busy writing these for the next few years... Top Ten Reasons Denise Sawicki is Awesome 10) She wore red on her wedding day, and she looked good. 9) She doesn't just send the DVD as a surprise birthday gift. Go »

Can't Live With Her, Can't Live Without Her

This is the truncated version of a much longer and more ambitious post about my relationships and why I don't blog about them. Let's just leave the reason at "duh." Denise and I tried being friends again after breaking up, but it was based on each of us not saying what we really thought of the other, which is always unwise. Go »

Lars and the Ripoff

I'm sure that Lars and the Real Girl is a good movie and that Ryan Gosling is Oscar-worthy, yadda yadda. But will the bloggers out there spreading the word please stop acting like it's such an original premise to have an adult treat a life-size doll like a real person? In the past few years alone, I've watched indie movies May and Love Object cover the same ground, with Dummy skirting closeby, and those are only a few examples; plenty more exist through the years. Go »