For office dwellers, weekends are precious.
They recharge us. They rejuvenate our well-being. They allow us time and space to do things that’s not possible during weekdays.
Things like sleeping in. Eating a slow and hearty breakfast. Lazing on the sofa through the humid afternoon. And Netflix through the night with ice cream for supper.
I treasure my Friday nights. They’re my happiest time of the week.
They said 4pm on Sunday is the witching hour. The time when the feeling of having to work on Monday sets in. I experienced this for the past two Sundays.
Though it’s Sunday (and still a weekend), I’m already looking forward to next Friday. The tendency is to always look ahead. But does it come at the expense of being detached from the present moment?
After the exhaustion during Christmas and Chinese New Year, I’m definitely relieved to spend more time at home.
Time to read the papers, play with our son, to munch on snacks. Simple pleasures. But oh-so-good.
These days, we’re eating out less and cooking more. Healthier and cheaper meals.
Not by choice, but by necessity.
I got a pay cut.
The impact caused by Coronavirus is being felt globally. People are shunning crowded places. Restaurants have more wait staffs than diners. Malls look like ghost town.
The occasions when we eat out becomes a luxury.
The crisis has set in. It’s about making ends meet.
Almost 4pm on a cloudy Sunday afternoon, the dampening mood is gradually devouring the sunshine.