Tomorrow is Labor Day, a moment for us to recognize the many contributions workers have made to America’s strength, prosperity, and well-being. It’s an important day.
It’s also a three-day weekend, which on the surface sounds amazing. Who doesn’t want another day in the weekend?
Well, I don’t.
Now before you think I’m just a grumpy old man who looks really good because he lost some weight, allow me to explain. These three-day weekends are always followed by a stressful four-day work week. Things we normally would do in a five-day work week are now stuffed into four days.
I don’t like that.
Waking up after a three-day weekend is never fun. That extra day of sleeping in, for me, convinces my body that I never have to wake up early again. Waking up a teenager on a Tuesday after a three-day weekend is virtually impossible. Unnecessary drama. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. It makes more sense to play volleyball with a hornet’s nest.
I don’t want that.
Three-day weekends present unnecessary pressure to socialize. If it’s a normal weekend, like God intended, I don’t have to do anything. But you add just one day more to a weekend, and suddenly I’m hosting a barbeque? Strangers are coming over and looking at my stuff? For some reason I’m being invited to my daughter’s boyfriend’s dad’s uncle’s place for a night in Rhode Island?
I don’t want to do any of that.
Three-day weekends always mean travel disasters. Doesn’t matter which day you travel on a three-day weekend, there’s traffic. A drive that normally would take 40 minutes, suddenly now takes 12 hours. I’m convinced some of those three-day weekend drivers are paid by the government to get in my way.
You probably think I’m being paranoid. But you know who invented the three-day weekend? That’s right: the government!
Mmm? Think about it…
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Story produced by Lucie Kirk. Editor: Lauren Barnello.
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