To anyone that will listen, I often complain about two things. First is Daylight savings time, but that is for another time. Second is Sunday late afternoon, that feeling of impending dread that tomorrow you are going to have to go back to work. Last night while feeling that all the moreso due to the three day weekend. Last night I came up with the following riff...

Thursday night is the night before the prom. There is so much potential for the weekend. You are going to show up and be the hit. You are going to dance like Travolta. Your rented tux will fit you like it was made for you by the finest Italian tailors. The homecoming queen who you have had a crush on since the third grade will see you and leave her quarterback boyfriend and throw herself at you. There is so much hype and excitement about it that you can't wait for it to happen.

Sunday late afternoon is the morning after the prom. The girl you brought as a "friend" was a dud and at the end of the night, hugged you like your Aunt Elenor does. The band was awful. You lost one of the studs to the tuxedo shirt and right now you are trying to scrub out a punch stain. You rented a tux for 60 bucks, you got a corsage for 15 dollars, you got a limo for 100 bucks and after all of that, your Mom is yelling at you about mowing the lawn, and to make matters worse, tomorrow you have to hand in a 15 page paper on Walt Whitman. There is the dissapointment that there was this opportunity to have a fun, enriching life experience, but it didn't happen and now you have to go back to the grind. God I hate Sunday afternoons.