THE EVERYDAY WEEKEND

Curtis Winkelmann 23 April, 2024

When we’re young, innocent, institutionalised, we wish that it could be the weekend forever. The orange sunlit glow of those school-free mornings. The soft protective fuzz of thick living room curtains. Ceramic cereal bowls filled to their absolute brim. Televisions transporting us elsewhere, anywhere. The still and cozied nature of inside that keeps a partial view of outside. Warm and wrapped up. Cold under feet. The hardwood floors and the exposed tiles like ice only adding to our comfort, a reminder of the harsh external reality that we no longer have to face, at least not for one day. We maintain a weightless burden-free spirit, feeling safe in the knowledge that this is just a brief and deserved break. That we will see our friends again soon. Come Monday, we will be bestowed with another time and a place to be, a purpose. But we also pray that Monday never comes. That somehow we’ll forever remain within the Friday nights, Saturday mornings, Sunday afternoons.

As children we take the weekend to be a true taste of what lies just over the crest of monotonous routine. Behold the laughing fun, the freedom, the absurd easiness of the space just beyond. If only it could be bottled up, we think, the weekend’s teeth-grinding snugness, we would dive in and live in it forever, our life a literal paradise.

But we’re wrong.

Because one day it does in fact become the weekend forever. We exit institutional life. We graduate. And here in lies the endless weekend of which we’ve always dreamed. However now it is mixed with an element we didn’t quite expect: existential dread. No adult warned us of existential dread. It was always just, “Wear suncream and watch out for pedophiles.” There was never any heads up that, "Hey, one day you’ll probably question your entire existence and there won’t be any answers. You’ll find yourself standing in front of the mirror and asking, ‘Who, what, and why though?’ You’ll learn that an everyday weekend isn’t some nirvana or cheat code to eternal happiness. No. It’ s more like a seismic depression. A nebulous pit at the bottom of which it becomes painfully clear why the week is structured as it is. We need obstacles, chores, challenges, things that drag us away from our comfort, things that scare us, bore us, frustrate us, hurt us. What we regard as childhood burden is actually just the heart of the game we’re all playing, everyday life.”

The result of the forever weekend is like immortality, it’s an illogical truth, a nice idea but hellacious reality. Humans hold death as their mortal foe and yet somehow we would rather embrace it than have too much of its opposite, the good thing, life. Now where is the sense in that? The cosmic logic? Why is the universe always so horny for this kind of contrast? Vegetables taste bad but they’re good for you, the sun is beautiful but don’t look at it, exercise hurts and prolongs your life, rest is craved but too much of it will drive you mad. Can’t something just be good for good sake? Why is existence a constant comprise? Why must the scales always balance or the yin face a yang? Why can’t we just be happy with living our life as a weekend?