Seems like a two-day weekend is just barely enough time to really come down from the previous week before you have to turn around and go back again. But a three-day weekend -- now that's perfect. Just enough time to yourself before you start getting a wee bit bored and actually look forward to going back to the office.
Of course, the problem with long weekends, especially in an industry like mine which revolves around a constant cycle of deadlines, is that losing a full day out of the week can throw schedules into a bit of a tailspin which requires care and attention to manage.
Oh, but it's worth it.
For me, a long weekend isn't about a constant stream of things to do, packing to go to the cottage, unpacking at the cottage, making the cottage ready for a steady barrage of guests and neighbourly drop-ins, a second dwelling to clean and maintain. As much as I adore the serene atmosphere evoked by the photo I chose to illustrate this post, cottage ownership is far too much work. I want my long weekends to be about rest, relaxation and doing as much nothing as possible.
Long weekends are for doing more of the things I love to do. Staying up late. Sleeping in late. Watching old movies. Coming and going as I please (which is a special treat now that I'm back working in an office again after more than two years working from home).
I'm glad to live in a culture that gives us regular two-day weekends as par for the course. The three-day weekends are an added pleasure that gives those of us in the workaday world something special to look forward to one weekend out of most months in the year.
I remember this every time I see a movie about domestic servants who would only get half a day off a week to do as they liked. Or people in cultures where they don't get any time at all off for themselves, except just enough to eat and sleep.
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