The weekend is an arbitrary aberration created by the capitalist oligarchs for those who are lucky enough to have the cushy 9-5, Monday through Friday jobs.
What is the weekend, anyhow? It’s meant to mean something. These two footnotes to the five turns of the Earth’s axis in a row are meant to be celebrated.
Unless you are not lucky enough to not work on Saturday and Sunday.
There’s nothing worse than working on Friday and knowing that you will work on Saturday and Sunday, too. It’s even worse to be told the platitudinous pleasantries of “Have a nice weekend!” or “Thank God it’s Friday” while you’re working that pre-weekend shift. These words don’t matter, but they insight anger, anyhow. Why are you telling me something which I cannot do?
I will be more than happy to accept this grievance if I’m ever able to claim the weekend back as the end of the week instead of a continuation of the spilled-over workweek.
This is the paradox of a carrot chasing the stick, only to find out it has no legs.
The top should give back the legless carrots. Give them the weekend.
Instead, they spit on the carrot just pulled from the ground.
Your employees are your resources; they are your money makers. I have seen too many androgynous pebbles of organs and hair secured to their parent’s chest because the latter has no other time to get groceries. Give the carrot the weekend.
Convenience Culture makes giving the weekend off to those in the service industry hard, but think of the pebbles. They deserve at least 24 work-free weekends a year.
Then the carrots, too, can thank a higher power it is Friday.
At the very least, stop telling people who work weekends to enjoy them. It’s like telling the carrot to enjoy the stew.