Here's what I think happens. Every Friday after work - when I'm lucky enough to be working - unbeknownst (five-dollar word) to me I get kidnapped and placed into a time machine set for Monday.
Then, as if there was never any weekend at all, it's just me and Monday morning.
The kidnappers are smart. They implant false memories in my head, like what happened on Dexter (someone got killed), True Blood (someone got turned) and The Newsroom (someone was walking and talking fast) when they aired on Sunday so I'll believe I've actually had a weekend.
But I haven't. I know this because they also give me memories of running around the entire weekend I didn't have doing errands, then doing chores when I'm at home. For some reason, they don't want me to have any memories of a pleasurable, leisurely weekend.
Because they know that would just make me want them more.
Even though I think I'm writing this on Sunday night, I know that can't be and it's probably actually Monday morning.
Fortunately after this coming week I'll be on vacation. Then every day will feel like Saturday.
At least that's what I'm hoping.
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