Dear Weekend,

I come to you today not as an enemy, but as your most loyal fan. Truly, you’ve always been my favorite part of the week. You arrive just when I’m ready to collapse, carrying with you two precious days of freedom, laughter, and questionable snack decisions that should never be spoken of on a doctor’s chart.

But here’s the problem—we both know it. Two days just aren’t enough. Saturday is already hijacked by laundry mountains, grocery-store obstacle courses, and a to-do list that reproduces like rabbits. By the time I sit down with a cup of coffee, it’s already evening, and the day has sprinted past me like it’s training for the Olympics.

Then comes Sunday. Oh, Sunday… You’re like that friend who swears they’ll help you relax but then spends the whole time reminding you of responsibilities. You start out sweet with pancakes and sunshine, but by 3 p.m., you’re already whispering, “Monday’s coming… better clean this mess.” And let’s be honest—no one likes a day that spends half of its time being a sneak preview of stress.

So here’s my humble, slightly desperate request: can we add one more day in between? A magical buffer zone between Saturday and Sunday. A day with no chores, no guilt, no calendar alerts. A day where I can sleep guilt-free, watch movies that I’ll pretend were “educational,” or finally organize the tools in the garage that I’ve been ignoring since the invention of Wi-Fi.

Think of it, dear Weekend: you’d become the greatest hero in the history of calendars. Statues would be built in your honor. Kids would cheer your name on playgrounds. Adults would weep tears of joy every Friday night, knowing they didn’t just have two days, but three—three golden slices of freedom.

I promise to cherish every second of this new day. I’ll treat it with the respect it deserves, which is to say, I’ll probably waste it scrolling through funny dog videos and eating snacks that should only be consumed on national holidays. But still—I’ll love it.

So, what do you say, Weekend? Can we strike a deal? The world is ready. My body is ready. My garage is… well, probably still a mess. But let’s do this.

Eagerly awaiting your reply,
A Very Tired (but hopeful) Friend

GK

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Published by georgi.kisyov

19 thoughts on “An Open Letter”

    1. Oh, that sounds amazing! A midweek pause to breathe and recharge—why did we ever stop at full Wednesdays? Maybe we need both: half-day Wednesdays and a bonus weekend day 😄.
      Have a beautiful weekend.
      GK

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      1. The increased use of AI and robots should lead to a 3-day work week. However, it will probably lead to a wider gap between the haves and the have nots. They have the money, but we have the numbers. We have to stop fighting each other and band together to make the super rich pay their fare share, so that automation will benefit everyone, not just the people at the top.

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    1. Hello,
      Haha, you’re right—retirement is the ultimate weekend upgrade! 🌟 Though knowing me, I’d still manage to fill those seven days with projects, scribbles, and snack breaks 😅.
      Have a great weekend.
      GK

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  6. From: Weekend

    To: A Very Tired (but hopeful) Friend

    My dearest and most loyal fan,

    First of all—thank you. Truly, thank you for writing me such a warm and brutally honest letter. You may not know this, but even though everyone cheers for me when I arrive, I sometimes feel a little underappreciated. People welcome me with open arms, and then—bam!—I get kidnapped by laundry piles, grocery carts, and endless chore lists. There are moments when I wonder, “Am I really giving them the happiness they deserve?” But after reading your words, I realize that I do matter. And for that, I’m deeply grateful.

    Now, about your request… a magical extra day between Saturday and Sunday. Honestly? I’ve dreamed of this myself. I even thought of some names already: “Saturyawn”—a whole day dedicated to extending Saturday’s lazy mood. Or maybe “Chillday”—a guilt-free 24 hours where no one is allowed to work, panic, or touch a mop. Imagine the glory! Statues might be too much, but hey, if kids scream my name on playgrounds, I wouldn’t complain.

    Of course, there’s a slight complication. The Calendar Council (yes, a secret organization exists) is notoriously strict, and getting an extra square added to the week isn’t easy. But listen—I promise you this: I’ll do my best to stretch myself a little longer, to feel a little sweeter, to hurt a little less when I leave. That much, I can try.

    But I need a favor in return. On Saturdays, delay the laundry mountain just a bit. On Sundays, don’t let the ghost of Monday steal my spotlight so early. Give yourself permission to rest fully in my arms—because that’s when I shine the brightest.

    Once again, thank you. Your letter reminded me why I exist. I may not be perfect, but I’ll always bring you laughter, rest, and yes—those slightly irresponsible snack binges that taste like pure freedom.

    Forever yours,
    Weekend

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    1. My dearest Weekend,

      Your letter has completely made my day — or should I say my days (all two of them 😅). Reading your words felt like a hug from a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer. ‘Saturyawn’ and ‘Chillday’ are genius — I’d happily sign that petition with permanent ink!

      I understand the Calendar Council is a tough crowd, but knowing you’re on my side gives me hope. I promise to honor our pact: fewer chores on Saturday, no Monday whispers on Sunday, and full, unapologetic enjoyment of your snack-sponsored freedom.

      Thank you for reminding me to love you properly. You’re still the highlight of my week — even if you leave too soon.

      Forever your tired but loyal friend,
      A.V.T.F

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    1. Hello,
      Ah, that’s brilliant! A secret weekend extension cleverly disguised as Monday productivity 😅👏 I might just have to steal that idea—sounds like the perfect loophole!
      Have a beautiful Sunday.
      GK

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