For schoolchildren and some government employees and office workers, it's a four-day weekend.
For much of the rest of America, it's The Week With Two Mondays.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Books. Bikes. Boomsticks.
“I only regret that I have but one face to palm for my country.”
9 comments:
I volunteered to take someone to the maul this morning.
Think about that for a while.....
Unless your part of the 17.5%.
Everyday is Saturday.
Well, shucks...it's also the week with two Fridays--and one of the Mondays is a Friday. Not so bad.
However, I took the whole week off, so the point is moot for me.
Hank
Hank beat me to it. Two Fridays, and there's a good chance the boss is out of the office for both of them.
So begins National Goof-off Month.
Hey, it's a four day weekend for me and I'm an electrician. I could have worked had I wanted to but business has been steady so I felt like having a nice break.
One good thing about my current employer is the lax holiday schedule: We get Black Friday off, plus the day after Christmas -- and since Christmas is on a Saturday this year, we get the 23rd and 24th off instead. Sa-weet. So as much as I complain about the Fr.Can. division and my, ah, mercurial supervisor, I can't grouse on that count.
Don't leave we union factory drones off the list! CW has it we're an endangered species too; feel free to parse that sentiment as you like.
Now that the morning stampede is mostly over, I'm going to bicycle over to the friendly neighborhood Walmart and view the resulting carnage.
In the oil industry we work every day. Yesterday's thanksgiving dinner was a can of soup and today will be some burritos from the gas station.
Weekends, holidays, what a joke. Every day is a work day, If you want a pay check that is. The only way to tell if it is a "work day" or weekend is the amount of traffic on the road.
I almost wish I was at work today. Told Mrs. G98 that there was no friggin' way I'd be playing Meanderthal to her shopping impulses. She took my brother-in-law with her instead. May God have mercy on his soul. I'm currently hoisting a cold Spotted Cow in his honor for the sacrifice he made.
There's a reason they call it Black Friday. One's mood is never so dour than when immersed under duress in that seething mass of humanity crowding the checkouts at Jacques Penne' or Target' Boutique.
Post a Comment