Three day weekends are wonderful, but when your regular days are something like a holiday, they somehow lose their specialness.
I'm not asking for sympathy though. I know all too well that it's next to impossible to get any worker to feel sorry for you when you're not working by choice.
All I hear is, "Isn't it all holidays for you now?" Or, "What do you do all day, anyway, lounge around?" And, "It's all right for you to stay up late, you don't have anywhere to be in the morning."
And I guess the people who say those things are not wrong. I know that I am incredibly lucky to be able to take a year off of work.
I'm fortunate to be able to say that today my plans are to go for a long walk, take some books and DVDs back to the library, then bike to the U to go to lunch with my husband. After that, I'll go into my office and work for most of the afternoon on blogging and novel revising and historical research, until it's time for the Tuesday evening 'Beer and Chat' at the Coco office.
On the other hand, besides luck, it takes hard work and planning to be able to have a year off. It also takes a willingness to give up the job you are familiar with and exchange it in the future for a position that may not be as good.
I seem to be rambling a bit. I must have the blues you get when your three day weekend is over, and it's back to the grind, however relaxing that grind may be.