I love the weekends because they offer me what I treasure most: solitude. The week long is a cooperative effort of discussing and negotiating and working together. On weekends I am released. My thoughts are free to run unhindered wherever they please, unrestrained by the social conventions and niceties of making sure others understand, are not offended. My musings run in so many wild and strange little paths that they are happiest when they can run alone. No one else can keep up or follow those trails. Social negotiations are always restrained or tortured. A thousand pleasantries await me when my mind is unleashed, free to pursue the most interesting and eclectic of lines alone. And I do.
It's a beautiful world inside, unshared by almost anyone else, and like the classic introvert I prefer it to the one outside, governed by harsh and sometimes shocking rules, and peopled with those who do not understand my world. If they stumbled upon it they'd drive great huge vans through it and camp all over and scatter litter and talk with loud voices and demand the building of gas stations and houses and restaurants and stores. And I'd have to flee. . .safety and delight lie in keeping it fenced in and hidden, a preserve for me alone. . .