There are a number of lousy elements to the end of a weekend. Leaving friends, packing up the cabin, stores shutting early on Sundays, and the inevitable consideration of what awaits on our desks Monday morning. (Me? Figuring out if the baseline number on 26 statistics we ran is incorrect. Hint: It is.)
But the worst part of the end of a weekend for me is reassembling my apartment. While I do run errands over the weekend, cooking and cleaning primarily, it is more of the “high intensity” chores instead of basic upkeep.
For example, right now I have to rearrange the following things: a shower gift that has turned into a wedding gift, put away three outfits that I tried and discarded over the last two days, put away the dried dishes from the massive washing festival I had last night while still drunk, disassemble two purses, resort shoes, iron my clothes for my interview (which are currently sitting in a place I cannot ignore), and ensure that I remember to bring everything to work tomorrow (including a gift for a coworker that helped me out when he had his own work to do).
And so suddenly, what is supposed to be a relaxing evening before a busy workweek, has essentially turned into a busy Monday morning, twelve hours early.