52 weekends, not 365 days

Time flies when we're having fun.

Isn't that what they say? I sometimes wonder who "they" are, just as you are wondering right now but let's not digress. If time is flying past us, we must be having fun. right? Perhaps.

This friend (who is also a philosopher and guide) called the other day. Yeah, no text, no email. An actual voice call.

"What're you doing this weekend, buddy?" he asked. I could sense the excitement in his voice.

"It's only Monday, mate!" I groaned, "Still trying to unbury myself from the inbox."

He laughed. "I've got two tickets to the game on Saturday."

"Ooh, noice!"

"Yeah, let me know when you manage to surface!"

As the call disconnected, the speed of my email management doubled. Only 5 sleeps to go, I thought and smiled. The rest of the week went by in anticipation, in the impending thrill. I spent my free time checking team stats and rankings, taking bets on the chances of our side, and so forth.

Next Monday, I was on a video call with a colleague.

"So, how was your weekend?" he inquired.

"Great, just great. We went for the basketball game at Sydney Olympic Park. Beat the Kiwis with a safe margin. Loads of fun! How about you?"

He then proceeded to share details of his outing with the family. Then we got down to business.

As the call ended and I dove back into the inbox, a thought hit me:

"Where did the week go?"