This is how it works: When I work solo on a weekend I take Monday off. Sometimes Tuesday as well.
It sounds straight forward enough. I work weekends. From Monday - Friday keyboard: actionscript, vector forms, html mashes, Ajax assemblies of dubious effectiveness, to Saturday - Sunday: commercial cleaner for two days. A quick, wet, and exhilarating 15 klms later we're home, parked up. I'm showered, feeling good.
I am fortunate in that I like my jobs. People seem to have a hard time getting their heads around it. I am supposed to be a full time nerd. I am expected to fountain vast arrays of Web 2 goodness at people when they ask me my opinion.
My opinion is that Monday to Friday is too busy for opinions, the weekends I am a completely different person, and therefore my opinion wouldn't count. Right?
I look forward to the weekends. It's like becoming someone else. Weekends I get to play with hideous chemicals, earn more per hour than during the week, earn more money than you, and actually end up with something I am proud of. I like clean. I always have.
I look forward to the bizarre swap out from super clean web aesthetics, if allowed my wish in designs, which these days is usually the case, to the madness of commercial premises, evidence of the occupants scattered about; sad lives, in my opinion only, sad lives to be enacted five days a week, all for the lure of the one thing everyone needs - paycheck. A look at the egos, the love lives, the food preferences, all shown in the place they work.
Some places I like the feeling of being the only one there; I get extremely bitchy if anyone dare turn up for work on 'my' weekends.
But, I don't feel the need to explain that in any more detail.
Monday off. Sometimes Tuesday.
This is Monday. This is also the planned day for a return to the wonderfully challenging sport of biking, against myself. A year since I last managed a self competition; a year since I rear ended a perfectly well parked car.
And, it rains. I'm trained to go to the hydro pool on Mondays; I've expended great effort in retraining myself in preparation for this particular day. And it's raining. And, it's the first day of school holidays. Loathsome.
The bike, and rider debut; raining rather too much, riding a new bike with no experience in it's workings, working out the gears on the fly, testing brakes - something I've never really had, getting wet.
Beautiful machinery makes me happy. This bike is beautifully constructed. Performs flawlessly in driving rain, the rider a tad wary of it's aggressive steering, and more than a bit put out with rain, but still determined. Very determined.
A quick, wet, and exhilarating 15 klms later we're home, parked up. I'm showered, feeling good.
This will be a fine bicycle, and my mental state will reflect just that.
Oh, and then I ran into James Joyce again.
Followed closely by House of Leaves - Danielewski
Some Mondays are like that. That's why it's a good day not to work.
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