I don’t understand the hurry of modern life. We’ve loaded ourselves with commitments. We spend 9 hours at work, 3 hours in commute, 7 hours in sleep. What have we been left with? 5 hours? And, if you take out time that goes into chores of daily personal and home maintenance, what’s left? 2-3 hours of personal time. No wonder we look forward so much for the weekend. We need time right, to enjoy what we’ve been so feverishly working for. So, when weekend comes, we don our finest clothes, visit the nearest pub, drink ourselves to glory, pull out our cameras, snap a few pictures, with ourselves in it, lest we feel that experience was never real.
But, is this how life is supposed to be? To live life on the weekends only? Why isn’t anyone questioning it? Why have we accepted life in this form? What choice do we have here?