I am just getting into the groove of my time and space when the anxiety of having to return to work bright and early tomorrow grips me with a vise hold. I never try to think about it, something will always remind me of the time. I will glance at the clock. I will see the date scroll by on the news. Even conversation I overhear on the street. It's cruel, it makes me crazy and no matter how hard I try, every Sunday, there is always that familiar sinking feeling and I am lost. My weekend is over.