Weakened
by Scott Hardie on August 16, 2006
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
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 »
Milwaukee's Best
Today I learned a valuable lesson: Don't quote that line from Wayne's World about "mill-you-wock-AY" to a native of that city. It's like asking them to bring you a cheese wheel when they visit: You deserve a kick in the balls for it. I learned this while planning my visit to the city this weekend for beer, brats, Packers, and oh yeah, Matthew Preston. Go »Long Live Scott's Other New Car
I never thought I'd write these words, but I'm the delighted new owner of a Hummer H2. It's all black, brand new in perfect condition. I've already got it tricked out with glowing ground-effects lights on the undercarriage and special extra-thick tires for off-roading. Go »New Neighbors Upstairs
STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP... Go »Pigeon Panic
Since Adrianne doesn't permit replies to her posts, I'll link it here: Poisoned pigeons fall from sky in Texarkana. The chain of events is too bizarre not to reiterate: A pigeon flew into a bank and defecated on a customer, so the bank put poisoned grain on the roof hoping to drive away the pigeons. Instead, dozens of birds flopped dead on the ground downtown – right during the city's annual festival. Go »Thorough Performance Reviews
I'm not around much this week because it's time for the annual performance reviews at work. I'm staying up till the wee hours each night writing the reviews so that the two-day marathon of face-to-face chats at the end of the week will go well. It's a win-win: For the employees doing a great job, it's my chance to offer serious praise without it sounding phony or arbitrary. Go »
Jackie Mason | August 17, 2006
[hidden by author request]