This Monday just passed was Victoria Day, which meant an extra day off, a long weekend. (To be honest, I don’t find any weekend long, and certainly three days don’t constitute length, to my way of measurement. It is longer than a two-day weekend, but only relatively.) There is just a fortnight until my holidays.
I find ‘long’ weekends enjoyable, principally because I don’t have to go to work but my boss still pays me. (There are long weekends in Alberta which do not include paid holidays, and they satisfy neither labour nor management.) They are, however, a bit confusing. There is probably not one such weekend when I don’t think Monday is Sunday. It usually occurs when I listen to the radio. I listen to two stations: CBC 2 and CKUA. Their respective schedules are different on Mondays and Sundays. So at least once every long weekend, I wonder what happened to the regular programming I expected to hear.
I don’t know if the cats recognize that the day is different. I suspect that they understand that some days are different than others. After years of knowing that some days I stay home and other days I go away all day, they probably comprehend that there is a contrast, but I don’t know if they expect one sort eventually to follow the other. One may simply be one kind of day when it arrives, and the next is the other kind, and they accept that.
In any case, a long weekend is pleasant for the human involved. I get things done. It’s astonishing how much can be accomplished when one doesn’t have to spend eight hours at a job, and several hours on either end dealing with its preparations or effects. I actually achieve some things, things I consider important, if only to me.
And so the long weekend is a preview, as it were, for my holidays, when I will be able to do much more. When the prospect of a great amount of free time looms, rather than the anticipation of a single extra day, one can do things and not feel rushed, knowing that this one task may take up a great portion of one’s hard-earned extra time. There is leisure in a holiday; one’s attitude is very different than the every day. Victoria Day weekend felt good. My holidays, I know, will feel very good.