When I first arrived in Rochester and got my first job here, that job gave me what I thought then was a wonderful schedule. I worked Sunday through Thursday, with Friday and Saturday as my weekends.
I mean, what good are Sundays, right? Kind of useless days. I’m not a big church-goer. And Sunday always feels kind of sluggish anyways. One might as well get one’s first work shift over with while everyone else is at home watching 60 Minutes.
But the previous job offered Saturdays and Sundays off, and once I moved out of the shoebox downtown, Sundays became more pleasant. I watch Sunday Morning on CBS because I’m older than 45 and that’s the law. Then I watch Meet the Press, Face the Nation, and This Week. I genuflect for the loss of The McLaughlin Group. I cook eggs and bacon.
Sadly, the new gig put me back on Sunday – Thursday for a while. I could take my morning news shows with me via YouTubeTV, I found, but it just wasn’t the same. I grew to miss my Sundays.
So I was utterly crestfallen when the boss asked me last week if I would mind going back to Monday – Friday.
It was weird being home today as I had actually gotten accustomed to Sundays in that little room. But man, it is nice to have that rather selfish comfy time cursing at my television monging on my eggs.
Happy Oscar night.
- The GOP’s Tax-Cut Narrative Is Already Unraveling (The Atlantic)