Weekend

Sometimes I don't really like the weekends. They don't offer up much in the way of fun. For one, I have to work weekends. That's a pretty obvious downer. And the longer I work there, the less I like it. Working sucks in general, but more on weekends.

I also don't like weekends because it's the prime time that I get ignored by pretty much everyone. My phone doesn't ring, there's no mail, no visitors. People leave town, come back, and go visit other people. I come home to an empty house and have no one to call. No one to share what's going on in my life with.

This seems like silliness and self-indulgence. Or pathetic. I don't like going two days without talking to the few people I care about. Or that are at least fun to talk to. And I also don't like the idea of not being missed by anyone. Not being thought about. I don't like that there's no one that can't wait to talk to me. They can wait till they run into me and that's good enough for them. I'm more of an afterthought or coincidental happening than anything else. Do I even have friends? Have I been deluded all this time? It would seem so. I'm sitting here, trying to think of just one person that I could call right now that is also at home alone on a Saturday night and wants to talk to me, and I'm coming up with nothing.

And this happens every weekend. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday ok. Friday through Monday pretty much suck. But sometimes Tuesday does too. So Wednesday and Thursday, but not always Wednesday. Oh my god, I've whittled down to one good day a week. Is that possible? One day out of seven is ok. The other six I feel completely cut off from everyone I think I know or thought I was friends with. That's less than 20% of the time. No beuno.

I can't wait for this weekend to end.