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 »
Sup
Miscellaneous goings-on: - Work is a joy. I have become accustomed to operating in ongoing semi-crisis mode because something's going wrong at any given time, and I love it. I love seeing the pressures of schedule and interpersonal conflict force my staff to devise innovative new solutions. Go »R.I.P. Nicole
You know those memes about how 2020 just keeps getting worse by the month? I didn't like them before because it's been such a very awful and depressing year that I'm not in the mood to joke about it. And now I really don't like them, because for me, June has indeed managed to be even worse: My friend Nicole died suddenly of a stroke on Friday. Go »Chatt Story
Kelly and I are home from a brief road trip to Chattanooga. The primary reason for going was the wedding of an old friend of Kelly. The ceremony was beautiful, held on the banks of Fall Creek Falls Lake, with some of the best-written vows I've ever heard, at once personal and profound. Go »R.I.P. Pam
Pam was a co-worker from the 2000s who recently passed away. Kelly worked with her much more closely than I did, sharing a cubicle space with her for years and getting to know her very well, though I had plenty of conversations with her too. She was always ready with a compliment or a joke or a homemade treat, and she was a source of light in a job that could be quite a grind some days. Go »Neighborhood Botch
I've heard that riding in the front seat of an Uber signals that you want to chat with the driver, and riding in the back seat means that you prefer silence. I always sit in the back. But when I went to catch a ride from my house the other night, there was stuff in the van's back seat, so the front was the only option. Go »
Jackie Mason | August 17, 2006
[hidden by author request]