Sep 05
If anything reminds the plan-less of how fundamentally alone they are in the world, it’s the long weekends of our country’s lesser holidays. Labor Day can be the most melancholic of them all; not only do you get an extra day off to be alone with yourself, but it signifies the transition from summer to fall, a nasty reminder that everything eventually dies. Personally, if I’m not working over a long holiday weekend, I usually find myself hungover in bed, feeling too overwhelmed by all the things I could theoretically achieve on this special day off to even text that acquaintance to see if it’s “cool” if you hit up their friend’s barbecue. (No worries if it’s not, just checking!)
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