Going into the Weekend

The fates weren’t willing. The creek did rise. I worked on Thursday.

My supervisor called me yesterday afternoon. Earlier in the week he announced that managers should take this coming Monday off. Now his supervisor wanted managers to work six days next week, taking only Christmas Day off.

Half a day on Monday would be enough, my supervisor said.

I would rather not.

I need one day–just one!–where I don’t have to go to the store, talk to customers, look at games. I need one day to finish wrapping, to write out Christmas cards, to go car shopping, to take care of laundry. I need one day to sleep in.

Half a day on Monday would be too much for me.

I haven’t hit the wall, though I have bumped into it. I know it’s there, lurking in the dark.

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