I have agreed to work Saturday. Tomorrow. Saturday. I have never worked in any job on any Saturday before. Saturday is off-limits. Surely. If anything is sacred in a man's life then surely it is Saturday. The real day of rest. The day after the lads go out on a Friday, and if you're into football or have a steady girlfriend then Saturday is the day you do that stuff. Friday is 'Lads' night, Saturday is for recovering and doing other stuff.
To work on a Saturday totally takes the value away from a Friday night - the best night of the week, the night that everybody finishes work for the week and goes out with their mates and gets drunk. Fridays are wonderful, but so are Saturdays. It doesn't matter if you are hungover, you have the WHOLE weekend ahead of you. What a feeling of freedom when you wake up on a Saturday morning. No-one should have to go to work on a Saturday morning.
But I am. I can't complain really I suppose. I chose to do it of my own choice.
Today has passed much the same as yesterday and Wednesday, bar from the fact that I am a little drunk today and haven't been for a few days - well, it is a Friday night - I have continued to open post, struggle to get into my trousers, sweat a lot, and complain about things a lot.
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