I have to be the world’s only individual who is allergic to weekends. I hear people groaning come Monday morning, hating the work week, and lamenting the loss of the weekend. Me, I don’t care for the weekends at all. Never did, even when I worked.

There is something to be told about the work week. It charges you. There is some drama always just around the corner of your cubicle or office or doorway. So many pairs of eyes, all full of questions trying to hide the laughter of a joke, or drawing the blinds down, so the supervisor cannot identify the secret. Always, and every day some drama works its way down to the front line.

Then comes Saturday, along with a sickening, nauseating, palpable throb in the corner of  my brain. I don’t have to hurry into the shower, pick a new set of clothes, don’t have to do my hair, or paint my lips. My eyes don’t need the kohl to stretch to the corners… and even before I get out of bed, I am bored. I see him reading the paper, with tea and toast with butter and marmalade.; and I wonder, why the heck didn’t I get used to drinking tea or coffee? Oh I know why… the smell of tea gives me a headache, and coffee is just too bitter to drain down my throat.

Some Saturdays, I have appointments, a massage, a pedicure or a manicure. That brings on a smile. But that doesn’t happen every Saturday. I go to the grocery store, and meet so many of my patients there, who hug me and cry and say that I shouldn’t have stopped practicing. I hurry back, and sit down. He is still reading the paper. I make the obligatory over-seas phone calls, call friends and relatives in the continental USA, and my morning is done. Some days, there are parties in the evening, and that can change the moods somewhat… not always, depending where you go and who all are at the party. I know, I know, you are probably saying “what a cry baby!” tough!

Worse still, is Sunday! Oh dear God, the day moves with a snail’s pace… nails scratching on the wall kind of agony steps in. I try to read, write, and drink water! Plenty of water to keep my insides clean, and then the phone rings. My little grandson is on the other side, saying “Hi Ammi.” Suddenly, there is life in my body. I sit up straight, my eyes are alive and the sunshine is so pleasant. And suddenly, my lips learn to smile.

“Hi darling Andrew, how are you?”
“Hmmm, Ammi, can I come over and spend some time with you?”

My old heart beats so fast, I can hear it in my ears. There IS a God, definitely. And suddenly, my weekend is not bad at all. All the dramas of the world take place in my home with just those few words.

{{ Just so you know, I have embellished and exaggerated my feelings here. I do love the work week much better than my weekends, but they are all not as bad as I have talked about here.}}

About Zakiah

I write poetry and some fiction, have a book that was published in 2012. . . Stray Thoughts/Winged Words. I have four grandchildren, ages 16 and half to almost 16 months. I love the ocean, and grew up along the Indian Ocean in South India. I am a retired physician. Don't know much else to say. Thanks for reading. That has been my profile for so many years. My daughter Saadia a great poet and story teller, has two sons; the oldest grandson is now 21 years old, doing architectural engineering at Missouri S&T in Rolla MO. His younger brother is almost 16 and taking driving lessons seriously and is in High School. The other two grandsons, children of my son Sayeed, are 9 and 5. I have recently published another book titled Gulistan, A home of Flowers. It has stories and memories of my childhood and of a distant land which I still consider as my HOME., even though I have lived here in the US for more than fifty years. Hope to see you on my blog.
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10 Responses to weekends

  1. I think it’s because you loved your job so much. I use the weekends to rest up for the week and catch up on sleep. It’s sad, I should be doing a lot more on weekends.

    • Zakiah says:

      I did like my job a lot, but more than that, it was the fact that I worked 24/7. I was a solo practitioner and had no coverage at all. SO my days and nights were always spent being on call…. Saturdays and Sundays included. The only time I had time off, was when I went out of town, and I would request someone to cover for me for a day or two, or longer if I were going home to India.

  2. I haven’t read your posts, in what seems, like a long time. But, you remind me again why I like reading your posts… 🙂

    You made work sound so stimulating and pleasureable – I guess some of it really is. Haha, the bit with Andrew in it was sweet.

  3. Humor_Me_Now says:

    Hi Dr. Zakiah. I am with you 100%. I have always loved getting up and going to work—really exciting. IN my old age, I discovered the blessingss of family–especially great grand children.

  4. I understand how you feel.
    Aw and Yay for Andrew and your other princes! They make life sweet and weekends fun for you! 🙂
    HUGS!!! 🙂

    • Zakiah says:

      My grandchildren make me live a beautiful life. I just don’t know what I did before they came on board. Hugs to you , and hope you will have an extraordinary thanks giving feast. ❤ ❤ ❤

  5. sunsetdragon says:

    I also enjoy week days and find week ends slow and lacking, especially during the rainy season.
    I loved going to work too and retirement even though I am busy with hubby care, is an adjustment.
    Worm motivated me. 😀
    Aww yes those wonderful grandchildren who bring to life and fill with a wonderful energy that only they can do.
    Thank the Heavens of your sweet Andrew.
    I have a 5 year old great grandson who has me wrapped around his finger. mean that boy owns me.
    No great love than grands and great grands.:)

    • Zakiah says:

      Absolutely, Ruth, rainy weekends make for a dreary day and the mood is so wonka donk! I know how much you love the grand and great grand children in your life. Blessings to you and TD. Have a happy thanksgiving dear heart.

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