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Workaholics Anonymous, or Why I hate weekends.

Workaholics Anonymous, or Why I hate weekends.

I hate weekends. Forty-eight hours of unadulterated boredom. Sitting on the sofa, surfing through seventy-eight channels of absolute nothingness. Forraging in the refrigerator for food that doesn’t have a colony of pre-cognitive lifeforms on it. Two days of pajama pants and CNN’s People in the News. I mean, do I really care that “The DaVinci Code” (which I favorably reviewed on TheAtlasphere.com) has spawned a laundry list of books by clergymen, theologians, psychologists, and numeroligists disputing every single point of the book? Of course not!

But here I am. Sunday afternoon, writing away on a computer screen–and not on a project that has a hope of winnng me money. Yet I’m here, fighting the urge to order a “LaserStraight” for $29.95 and hoping that something comes along to take Thomas Hammill’s safe return out of the headlines. I don’t mean to sound heartless. I’m really glad he was found safely. Or rather, that a single man who drove people around Iraq was able to escape from his armed captors while the single largest military power ever assembled was unable to find and rescue him. Go Thomas Hammill! I just am tired of hearing about it. He’s the new Jessica Lynch. (Notice how we don’t hear anything about the black people being captive–yet there were black POW’s in Iraq.)

Such is the nature of things on the weekend. The only worthwhile activity in the entire two days is the two-hour span of “A Prarie Home Companion” on PRI. Garrison Keillor is my hero for his ability to entertain. But it is his weekend-coping power that makes him worthy of worship. Here is a man whose entire week is spent planning for what? For the weekend. He works every day to make sure that on Saturday, at 6PM, he sits down in front of a microphone and boom. He’s on the air. Live. That’s foresight of the best kind. He hates weekends, I’m sure. Otherwise, why would he work on a Saturday?