People, meet Saturday; Saturday, meet People

The last time I blogged from office was on a Friday, more than a year ago. And today, this runty post is being dedicated to a day which doesn't get the kind of attention it deserves—all thanks to its fixture between the Big F and the Big S—something it shall have to live with for as long as human race exists. To make situation worse, Fridays and Sundays are designed in such a way that we actually start looking forward to the well-hidden positives of life. To top it all, the idea of killing oneself rarely happens on a weekend. (Yeah, Freud, Hemmingway and Marilyn would strongly disagree!) No wonder people thank God for Fridays as well as Sundays but someway manage to overlook Saturdays. This negligence on our part leads to vengeance on theirs. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that ennui took birth on a bright Saturday afternoon. Thus the resulting ambiance is so dull on this particular day that it doesn’t matter whether a person is at home or at work. Sometimes it even forces Baz Luhrmann to change Sunscreen’s lyrics from 'idle Tuesday' to 'idle Saturday'. The reason behind this disorder lies in an inferiority complex Saturday suffers from that Sunday isn’t aware of. Notwithstanding these hebdomadal baloney, Saturday takes comfort in the presumption that people spend Sundays trying not to think of Mondays. After all, Saturday is just a Sunday away from Monday. And before we realize it, someone will change Saturday into Sunday into Monday.