Bookended by weekends

Within my sleep deprived brain

Echoes this near-constant refrain

Why is it not the weekend yet

So that work I can briefly forget

And indulge in activities hedonistic

Or flex a dormant muscle artistic

Or simply catch up on precious shut-eye

All week long I wonder why

The days are long, but not the nights

Every morning drowsiness I fight

I build up sleep deficit through the week

But when the weekend rolls, thrill I seek

By reading a book way past midnight,

Or conjuring up ideas that never see daylight

I take the idea of weekend fun seriously

And time just flies by mysteriously

Before I can rejuvenate and rest

Or explore one of my (varied) interests

Monday is knocking on the door

And it is time for last week’s encore

I immerse myself in work, dreaming again

Of the upcoming weekend to alleviate my pain…