Mondays are getting harder and harder to face as the weather has gotten better each week. At least during the dreary weeks in January, February and March, we could justify "home" weekends, full of movies, fort-building (well, maybe not, but we could have), and general laziness. By the time Monday rolled around, there was a small part of me looking forward to getting out of the house and reintegrating back into civilization. But with the warmer weather has come an onslaught of activities, all of which seem to be begging us to commit ourselves (and our weekends) to them...and we don't mind a bit. Friday afternoons are now spent at one of the larger local hotels for their infamous "Happy Hour". We walk down each Friday, buy our overpriced drink tickets, and mill around in a crowd of hundreds of other office escapees, comparing relative workloads and admiring the gigantic private yachts that dock alongside the hotel. Legend has it that Happy Hour is only the beginning of a true Friday night on the island, which goes on to include at least 2 other local venues and ultimately ends in drunken pandemonium. Needless to say, Kurt and I have only made it through Stages 1 and 2 so far...we're aiming to make it to the finish line at least once this summer. I suppose it would be a lot easier to do if either of us were big drinkers...which we're not.

We spent yesterday afternoon laying in the sand, swimming periodically to cool down. My major concern was whether or not I would successfully even out my blotchy tan on my left arm. So, is it any wonder that when Monday rolls around, marked by the easy listening radio station on the alarm clock, I stay in denial (and in bed) for as long as possible?

Weekends, when you think about it, can be traumatizing for the system. You work hard (well, maybe not hard...but I do work) all week and are then presented with two glorious days to do with what you like, only to find that Sunday evening comes around far too soon and before you know it, you are back at your desk at work, longing for your next escape. And I don't even hate my job...my job is entirely pleasant.

I have been working the nine-to-five for years now...you would think that this would get easier.