Mohen has to work today. And so far, to my recollection, today is one of the most beautiful Saturdays that we have had ever since we moved to this new place. And he has to work.
Of course I can’t be complaining because I personally requested him not complain about my work, especially when I have tonnes to finish and only 2 hours to do it. Lately my work has been taking up most part of my time. I am not complaining to myself either because I love it but I really wish that all of these doesn’t happen now. I want to be with Eros and I know I need to. But although it is not my fault that I have to work, I can’t help feeling guilty.
Despite Saturday being the start of the weekend and all, the thing I hate most about it is that how it can feel like a Sunday.
You would do everything on a Saturday and feel as though you’re going to go to work tomorrow. You run errands, you catch a movie, you meet up friends for lunch or dinner, then you go for a nightcap and perhaps clubbing or another late movie. Then when you get home and lay down on the bed, you realize that it still Saturday (or very early Sunday) and you have another day to do all the things you did all over again.
You took your time the next day, waking up late to go to mamak for a nice teh tarik and roti canai. Go the bookstore at the mall, lazing through the new arrivals section and pick a book, enjoy a nice cuppa with a cigarette and your new book in your hands. You looked at your watch and realized it 6.30pm and gosh, it’s Sunday and you have to work tomorrow!
Why can’t Saturday be like Sunday? Why can’t Saturday just give you the feeling that it is Saturday and tomorrow is another day?
I find the cruelest day of the week because I would want to do everything on a Saturday because I don’t want to rush on a Sunday because for God’s sake, it is Sunday. I guess that’s why Saturday always feel like a Sunday to me because I have more things and lesser time to do the things I planned for the whole week.
Still, I think Saturday is just cruel.