Quote of the Day: “If all the year were playing holidays, to sport would be as tedious as to work.” —William Shakespeare, Henry IV
Many of you upon reading this will have just dragged yourself in to work after another unbearably short weekend, and cleared your desk of all that was put off until today, but that can probably make it until tomorrow. You’ve turned, in desperation I dare say, to this humble blog for a bit of wit or wisdom. Rejoice! I’ve something to offer today that will help you through the week, even the remainder of the year. I’ve made an astonishing discovery. There is a holiday hidden within our calendars which we’ve all failed to previously note. Third Week.
What makes my discovery so amazing is how cleverly hidden it has been through all our working lives and those of our forefathers. “Hidden where?”, you may inquire; to which I respond, “In PLAIN SIGHT, MAN!”, where else? Do I make myself clear?
Ok, I’ll explain. Next Monday, it’s a short week because of Thanksgiving. Between the Monday we return to work and Christmas, we all know good and well there is no more real work to be done. You can’t start a new project just before Christmas after all, only to have it set aside and grown stale by January. Oh sure, there are tasks left to accomplish, but no more heavy lifting. It’s also the time of year for Christmas parties and leftover sausage balls and chex mix in the break room. The boss won’t be around after the parties are over out of guilt of one sort or another. At some places he doesn’t want to face the secretary he hit on after too many beers at the office party, and at others he’s slinking out of town to avoid the mob mentality of a dozen or more worker bees whose Christmas bonus has shrunk. Even if a few dedicated souls wanted, nay, needed to work, it would be difficult for all the co-workers using up those last saved days of vacation. And sick leave. Those who remain are glued to their computers (when full of chex mix and sausage balls) doing online shopping and forwarding chain emails about baby Jesus’ visage on a chocolate Santa, a little girl in a hospital who wants her Christmas card read by a trillion people and the liberals who want to take all this away from them. Then Christmas week arrives and work is less than an afterthought. After Christmas, most places open for the sole purpose of letting people in the building to escape any more quality time with their families. No office manager or supervisor has any expectation of work being done from December 27 through New Year’s Eve.
So you see, this is it. One more week in your personal fiscal year. It’s all (giblet?) gravy from here on out. And I for one think the week deserves a name–I’ve christened it “Third Week.” The last real work week of the year. So smile this morning and take heart. You’ve got one more week in the salt mines until you can relax for just over a month. And before you attack the pile of paper that really cannot be put off until tomorrow, or next year, pass this little epistle on to a friend. Then he can pass it to a friend, then they can pass it to their friends, and so forth, and so on, until this holiday week discovery of mine takes hold in the public consciousness or even better, the upper reaches of the AFL-CIO. Before much longer, we might even get a day off for Third Week. Then we’d search everywhere in hopes of discovering Second Week. Shakespeare saw the potential for a permanent holiday season. TB has unearthed the secret after years of suppression by the Man. Where it goes from here is up to you.