What weekend?
Here it is, eight in the morning on a Monday and I feel like I had no weekend at all. Technically I did, but it was just one day. I worked until eleven Friday night, took Saturday off, and then worked ten hours on Sunday. It’s amazing how something like that will make you feel like you’re just working continuously with no break whatsoever, and it’s also amazing how absolutely cranky that can make you feel.
Oh well, at least I’m taking the liberty of going into work later today. Hell, I didn’t even get home until nine last night; I think it’s only fair that I wait at least twelve hours before leaving the apartment again.