It’s finally the weekend! The long hours of the week are over, the painfully early alarms are temporarily suspended, and, in theory, it’s time for some well-deserved rest!
Well… “rest” is a bit of a strong word.
In reality, the weekend usually starts with a beautiful to-do list as long as a day without Wi-Fi: cleaning the house, doing laundry, hanging clothes out to dry, folding everything, preparing outfits for the following week, doing the grocery shopping, putting away all the things that were moved during the week, and creating my organizational schedule.
In short, the weekend is basically a second working week—except without a paycheck, without a coffee break, and with considerably more dust.
At least I won’t have that little voice in my head repeating every evening:
“Come on, hurry up and go to sleep. You have to get up early tomorrow!”
I’ll finally be able to sleep a little longer… Well, that’s the theory. In practice, even when I’m not working, I still wake up early out of habit. My body seems to have signed a permanent contract with early mornings. I’m almost always awake before the famous BEEP BEEP of the alarm clock. It’s very rare for it to surprise me anymore.
The only time it might actually win would be after a late night out with friends, finishing at a bar far later than planned. But as we get older, those kinds of nights become increasingly rare. First of all, because I’m no longer twenty years old… and neither are my friends. At our age, a night ending at two in the morning requires almost a full day of recovery, two liters of water, and sometimes a medical consultation just to understand why our backs are making so much noise.
Then there’s life, responsibilities, work, bills, and all the other cheerful little things that constantly remind us that we are now responsible adults. Responsible… well, we’re mostly just trying not to forget anything important and survive until the next paycheck.
And let’s be honest: going out has become more and more expensive. Between drinks, restaurants, fuel, parking, and the simple act of breathing in certain places, a night out can quickly turn into a long-term financial investment.
Unfortunately, salaries seem to be following inflation on foot, while holding a map upside down.
Despite everything, I’m going to try to enjoy the weekend as much as I can, making the most of the little pleasures life still has to offer: sleeping a little, eating something delicious, watching a movie without falling asleep after twenty minutes, and maybe even going outside if my energy levels and joints give me permission.
Because I also have to admit something: the muscle pain is becoming more and more noticeable when I get home after a day of physical work. I used to feel tired. Now, every part of my body seems to be holding its own union meeting. My back is protesting, my legs are negotiating, and my shoulders are seriously considering resigning.
I really need to find a less physically demanding job. I know I would probably have to update my skills, take some training courses, and learn new things in order to change careers. But, to be honest, the idea of going back to school motivates me about as much as a rainy Monday morning.
What also worries me is the possibility of making all that effort without any guarantee of finding a job afterward. Sometimes, I feel that changing careers becomes more difficult after reaching a certain age. Some companies seem to prefer hiring someone younger, cheaper, and willing to accept minimum wage—even if they then have to spend three weeks explaining where the coffee machine is.
As for me, I no longer have the strength or the desire to be exploited. After many years of experience in my profession, I have learned a great deal and I know how to work independently. I appreciate being trusted and being allowed to manage my schedule and responsibilities without having someone constantly looking over my shoulder twenty-four hours a day, as if I were a child trying to steal candy.
I’m not necessarily asking for a CEO position with an ocean view and a built-in hot tub. I would simply like a properly paid job, in a respectful environment, one that isn’t too damaging to my body, and where experience is considered an asset rather than an expensive problem.
In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy this weekend as best I can. I’ll try to rest between chores, smile despite the aches and pains, and remind myself that a little peace and quiet—even in the middle of laundry to fold and groceries to put away—is still worth appreciating.
After all, happiness can sometimes be found in the simplest things: a hot cup of coffee, a comfortable bed, a clean home… and the immense satisfaction of being able to say:
“This time, I’m doing absolutely nothing.”
Well… after I’ve finished cleaning, grocery shopping, doing the laundry, organizing my schedule, and preparing for the week, of course.
