It's Friday and once again I'm facing you, my old friend, the weekend. Yet somehow, I do not approach you with the same anticipation that I once did. Things are different now between you and me.
Remember when you and I would meet with joyful fulfillment after a long week of work? Your arrival meant extra sleep, no responsibilities. You always brought with you movies, restaurants and friends. Sunday nights were always filled with regret that our time had passed so quickly and that in just a few hours I would be back at the grind.
But times have changed my friend. Instead of anticipation, I dread your arrival. You've traded sleep, friends and movies for work, responsibilites and more work. You make my weekdays seem like a vacation. And on Sunday nights, I quietly rejoice that you are nearly passed and I'll have five whole days before you rear your untamed head again.
Have faith, dear weekend. I haven't lost hope that one day you and I will be reunited in heart and mind. I'll greet your arrival with ready excitement and mourn your departure on bitter Sunday nights. Until then, let us remember the way we were.