Weekends...

...are particularly loathsome things these days.  I enjoy the Friday excitement and anticipation of the coming occasion as I guess I feel that off of  others however, come the evening on the way home I am aware of the monolithic doom looming over the weekend.  I enjoy the thought of the lie-in but that's it, the rest is of doom and musings of preoccupation, wondering what I can do, what will occupy me until its time to sleep once more later that evening.  A paradox is that I am regretful of the impending return to work following Sunday evening. I also don't wish to appear sad or without direction to a guest foreign student that I may have, I wish I could get up and have impetus to get out somewhere for the day only to return later in the evening but alas, its quite different.  I get up and could sit there until evening and have done nothing.  My only activity at present is either shopping or DIY projects that I may engage myself in, quite, quite pathetic.

 

My mother evidences herself as quite unable to cope or comprehend me, she somehow feels she can compare or compete with me not having seen or spoken to anyone since I left work on a Friday night to her not having spoken to someone for a couple of hours or so.  The latest comment like this was received by me Sunday afternoon and it angered me, I don't know if she wants to compete, wants to sympathise, finds it funny, or plain lacks thought or compassion, I just don't know.

 

Ah well, my pathetic existence resumes it Mon-Fri facade soon and I'll shortly be able to nod off and bid the social torture  farewell for some days, it will return soon enough and I really wish it wouldn't, its too much