A
Saturday Stolen
by: Ulysses Ybiernas ♦ June 16, 2008
What I crave is not escape, but stillness, the rare luxury of simply not being needed for a while.
At this point in my workplace, I feel as though I am standing in the eye of an emotional storm, surrounded by restless winds of insecurity, fatigue, and quiet despair. Within me, doubts have been growing heavier by the day: feelings of undesirability, the unsettling awareness of aging, and the persistent confrontation with my own imperfections. Each thought lands like a weight I can no longer easily set down.
As if that were not enough, financial pressures have also tightened their grip, pressing down on me with a force that leaves little room to breathe. Fortunately, a close relative attempted to bridge that widening gap, offering some relief, though even that feels like a fragile patch over a deeper strain.
For days now, the combined demands of work and family have drained me almost completely. As a single parent, exhaustion is no longer an occasional visitor but a constant companion. There is never a true pause, never a moment that feels entirely my own. Even rest seems borrowed, temporary, and always too short.
My weekends used to be my refuge, the only stretch of time where I could slowly recover from the chaos of the workweek, piece by piece restoring what had been worn down. But now I have learned that even this coming Saturday, the one day I had silently reserved for myself, will be taken from me. It will be consumed entirely by a seminar on “Delighting Customers.”
I understand its purpose. I recognize it as part of my responsibility, part of the demand to uphold service and satisfaction in the workplace. And yet, I cannot help but ask myself, almost in silence: when will I be the one who is considered? When will I be the one who is allowed to feel valued, to rest without obligation, to simply exist without constantly being measured by how well I serve others?
For so long, I have lived within this cycle, prioritizing the needs of others, especially those who carry wealth and authority, those who seem accustomed to being treated with constant deference, as though comfort and privilege are their natural entitlement. And I, in turn, have learned to set myself aside.
But right now, none of that feels important.
What I long for most is peace. Not achievement, not approval, just stillness. A moment where the world does not demand anything from me. My weekend is not just free time; it is my only refuge, the place where I can finally exhale and begin to recover. Home is my sanctuary. I would not even resist sleep if it claimed the entire day. In fact, I would welcome it, if only it would grant me silence, if only it would allow my mind and body to pause without expectation.
“Sometimes, sleep is not rest from life, but escape from the weight of continuing it.”
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