As it happens, it's Friday, and I didn't work today. So one would assume I'd do something that one can only do on a weekday, cause stuff is open.
It didn't happen.
I spent the entire day sitting in front of the computer, doing what one does sitting in front of a computer. A bit of typing, a bit of shopping, some wandering around Second Life. I didn't leave the house at all. Not yet anyway. I'll probably run down to the store for a bit, but I could do that on a weekend, too.
I didn't ask for Friday off. I was told I had to work on Sundays, and I had to have a different day off so they didn't need to pay overtime. I was told also I needed to work 10 hours on Sunday, so I work 6 hours on Thursday so they don't need to pay me overtime.
I suppose if the Friday had been my own choice I might feel differently. I might have plans for the day. I might have all sorts of weekday tasks I'd do on my Friday. It's my Friday, but it's not my Friday. It's the one to which I've been assigned. It feels like it's another part of my work week.
At the moment it feels like my whole life consists of work, preparing for work, finishing my day so I can sleep to get up for work.
This is not the way this is supposed to be. This is not what they promised me back in the 1960s when I was growing up.