The weekend feels like finding a undiscovered tropical island full of fruit and freshwater after spending months stranded in the middle of the Pacific with a dwindling supply of sardines.
The weekend feels like finally finishing a YA novel about a teen werewolf who becomes a pop star who also knows karate that’s been dragging out forever.
The weekend feels like lying down on a bed (any bed) when you have the absolute worst back ache.
In a word, the weekend feels like…relief. Sweet sweet, dangerous relief.