Lost Weekend

I seem to have misplaced my weekend. I know it was here a minute ago, but I can’t find it. I would consider placing an ad in the Lost and Found column of the newspaper’s classified section, but I can’t remember what it looked like; I could offer no description. The little bugger is always running off just when I’m ready to enjoy it. What a tease the weekend is. I look forward to it with such anticipation and then it just disappears – poof -- gone. No goodbye or anything. If I wasn’t so used to the disappointment I might have my feelings hurt.

If you do find my lost weekend pay no attention to the slanderous remarks it is sure to make about me. Don’t believe a word if it tries to tell you I ignore it or treat it poorly. Just because I have to work on Saturday doesn’t mean I don’t want to enjoy my weekend. I am not intentionally snubbing it, and doing laundry, running errands, and cleaning house does not mean I prefer those tasks to my weekend. Geez, who knew the weekend was so sensitive?

If I promise to be more attentive next time do you suppose my weekend will return on Friday to give me another chance? If you should happen to see it, please tell it I’m sorry and I promise I won’t ignore it again. Thanks!