Tomorrow is Labor Day. On this day we recognize the great contribution that workers have made to the strength, prosperity and well-being of America. It is an important day.

It’s also a three-day weekend, which sounds fantastic at first glance. Who wouldn’t want one more day at the weekend?

So, I not.

Now, before you think I’m just a grumpy old man who looks really good because he’s lost some weight, let me explain. These three-day weekends are always followed by a stressful four-day work week. Things we would normally get done in a five-day work week are now squeezed into four days.

I don’t like that.

Waking up after a three-day weekend is never fun. That extra day of sleeping in convinces my body that I never have to get up early again. Waking up a teenager on a Tuesday after a three-day weekend is practically impossible. Unnecessary drama. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. It makes more sense to play volleyball with a wasps’ nest.

I don’t want that.

Three-day weekends mean unnecessary pressure to be social. If it’s a normal weekend like God intended, I don’t have to do anything. But if you add just one day to a weekend, I’m suddenly hosting a barbecue? Strangers are coming over and looking at my stuff? For some reason, I’m invited to my daughter’s boyfriend’s uncle’s house in Rhode Island for a night?

I don’t want to do any of that.

Three-day weekends always mean travel disasters. No matter what day you travel on a three-day weekend, there is traffic. A trip that would normally take 40 minutes suddenly takes 12 hours. I’m convinced that some of these drivers are paid by the government to get in my way on three-day weekends.

You probably think I’m paranoid. But do you know who invented the three-day weekend? That’s right: the government!

Mmm? Think about it…

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Story produced by Lucie Kirk. Editor: Lauren Barnello.

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