Senselessly whiny rant

So with everyone (including Tom, Dick and two of my bosses) headed to Galle for the weekend for that much hyped "LitFest" (does that sound saucy or what?), and since work prevents me from jumping on the bandwagon, I'm stuck with nothing to do this weekend - well, Sunday to be precise; I have a job that makes me work on Saturday, so I don't really get to have a "weekend" off in its traditional sense... but that's beside the point... So, am looking forward to a Sunday filled with Class A boredom, with nothing to do and the prospect of having to listen to everyone's near-orgasmic accounts of the fest once they return. It seems EVERYONE I know is willing to shed a few big ones for that... thing. Argh!

There, I feel better already.

Having said that, this year's GLF sounds like a pretty big deal and it appears that I'm missing out on some good stuff. I hear they're bringing down the guy who wrote Schindler's Ark. Man, that's big. And I've always wanted to meet Carl Muller. Dunno if he's going to be there this time, though. I'm guessing he is.

Anyway, I don't really know why I'm so worked up. It's not like I'm this hardcore reader who would love nothing more than to attend bookclub meetings in his spare time (do we even have those things here?). In fact, I've never been to this GLF thing before... ever. And I'm not the type to be seen sipping coffee with the rich and famous. I despise that sort of thing. So why now?

I don't know. Maybe I'm just pissed off that I can't get my Saturdays off. And it's not just 9-5, man. For reasons best known to my immediate boss, on Saturdays I'm required to stay at office till 1 am the next frickin' day! I can still remember the look on his face when I asked him if I could be excused to go for Onstage last year. Not that I actually told him I was going for a rock concert, but, you know...
But he's a nice guy, and quite the gentleman, so he let me off. And I actually felt kinda bad.

But I dunno. I don't get to do anything on Saturdays that doesn't involve sitting at a desk and staring into a computer monitor, when I should be out having a ball, or not doing anything at all for that matter. I can't remember the last time I went for a party on a Saturday, and parties are almost always held on Saturdays. Not to say I'm a social butterfly or anything but seriously, man, a guy's gotta have some time off.

Oh well. Can't complain; at least I get paid.

Sorry about all the whining, man (if you're still reading this, that is). :p