Any physics major will tell you that there’s only one thing faster than the speed of light, and that’s how fast Friday night turns into Monday morning.
So here we are again, Sunday night and all the wonderful things I hoped to accomplish before the weekend was over are wanting.
Letters I need to write. Bills I need to pay. Clothes I need to put away. Books I need to create to give myself a legacy in this world.
Instead I played solitaire. That’s right, I’ve spent the last three hours on my iPhone playing 4 different kinds of solitaire. But hey, at least I won.
Thing is, I’m sure that if I did all the things I told myself Friday afternoon that I would accomplish, I’m pretty sure Monday morning would still be staring me in the face as quickly. If not more so.
In my long life (I’m now 67) there have only been a few weekends that didn’t disappear like smoke. Usually they involve moving my residence–something I am about to do again, be forewarned. Then Monday came like a 300-pound linebacker laying me flat on my back.
Or when I was in my early 30s and I had a girlfriend who was, let’s say, very enthusiastic about physical affection. To the point that I literally did not sleep from the time I saw her friday night till the moment Monday morning that I crawled home to get dressed for work. Not complaining, mind you. But those weekends seemed to last forever.
And, of course, when I coached my son’s soccer teams, the weekend was full of games and angry parents who thought their little darling needed more playing time.
But for the most part, Saturday is a blur and Sunday is a flash of light.
Monday, on the other hand, moves slower than a glacier. And chews up more real estate.
The only true solution is to retire, something I am seriously considering at the end of this year. (My boss keeps telling me I will miss being a lawyer. LIke I miss a toothache or a hungry lion chasing me.)
Which concerns me. Because if retirement is like one long weekend leading to death…what if it speeds past, too?
I may have to rethink this.
Mark Bruce, Writer 