rewarded with a weekend
Don't you wish you could go back? Back to a time when you were never fully aware of anything? At least when you reflect, it doesn't seem like you were. And it's hard for anybody to believe you when you tell them that the best days of your life were the days when you got into boat accidents and went to too many funerals. But you'd never had to care, because you'd never had to cry. The pure parts of your inner self were confined to the deeper parts of your young mind. Things would happen at an even pace, but time just went faster back then. And now you want your babies to walk around barefoot in the mud covered woods and jump over fire-pits and sing loudly along to fast songs with swear words in them so they can experience what you did. But, when you think about it, isn't that just setting them up for failure and confusion? So you become apprehensive about letting them be who they need to be. You figure they'll probably all be in the throes of their own identity crisis by the time they're eight. But, you think, they're just babies now, so you breathe easy. You wonder when they'll have their first drink or smoke their first cigarette or sneak into their first show, and you know they'll just follow the tractable roads of society. This saddens you, so you push your head into the pillow a little harder. And you think of how grateful you are that every business week eventually ends.