It occurs to me that making progress through the typical week is rather like a journey on the M4 motorway. I traveled from Swansea to London recently, along the M4, and contemplated this thought as I journeyed.
Monday is like leaving Swansea after a restful weekend, like setting out on your journey. Duty and adventure call and, although you look back longingly at home and a warm bed, you travel with purpose and perhaps some degree of reconciliation. This simply has to be done.
Tuesday is rather like Newport. You feel as though you have already come such a long way but there is yet so much further to go. A sense of resignation sets in as you accept there is no turning back.
Wednesday is like arriving at the Severn Bridge. Surely this is a major stage on your journey, signalling real progress made. Of course, the other side of the bridge is England but, as my mother used to say, you can't have everything and, while the road actually rises from the bridge, you feel as if the hardest part is behind you and you are on the downward ride to your destination.
Thursday is like Swindon. Here is where reality kicks in and reminds you that, despite your effort and perseverance, there is yet some distance to travel. Like someone popping into the pub Thursday evening for a drink and to find consolation with fellow travelers, you pull into the Leigh Delamare service area for a much needed break.
Friday is like the Reading service area. There is a real sense of an end in sight. Soon you will see the familiar signs for Heathrow Airport and you eagerly count down the last few junction numbers. But this part of the motorway proves much busier than at your starting point. People are driving faster, more erratically at times. It is just like a Friday afternoon when the weekend is in sight yet there is still much to before you can to walk away from work and enjoy your destination in peace.
The weekend is like London, your destination and, just like visiting any big city, there are highs and lows, bright lights and dark corners. The weekend, like the city, has its attractions and distractions, fulfillment and disappointment, but seldom lives up to its reputation. The weekend is, in anticipation, more than it is in its in realization. It brings rest, recuperation, and hopefully a fresh resolve to make better of things but, come Monday morning...
