The 5 emotional stages of working a scorcher of a Bank Holiday weekend
It's the Bank Holiday.
That is, unless, you happen to be working it.
And so, like the entire Her team, you dive into the four day (!) weekend knowing that it is going to be record level hot - but that you'll be working at least some of it.
A modern tragedy - one that doesn't have five acts, but five stages. Of emotion.
This is them.
The fucking Bank Holiday, of all holidays.
Why couldn't they have rostered you for St Patrick's Day, or the Fourth of July, or some other day that's as equally unimportant.
Why did it have to be the Bank Holiday where it's the hottest it's been all year?
Why did it have to be the days after you had just gotten paid but can't do anything with your money because you're back in the shop or the restaurant or the office making more money that you'll never get to spend?
Why did it have to be the weekend when all your mates decide to road trip up North but couldn't possibly wait the extra day for you because the Airbnb wasn't available for just two nights (sorry!)?!
You may kill a man if the sun continues to shine as brightly as it has done all morning.
You are missing out on valuable #can and #tan time. You cannot be held accountable your actions.
The next person who comes in here and says: "Ah god, shame you're working on a day like today" is getting a smack in the face.
"I'm only here because of people like you, Dennis," you spit. "People who ensure there's always a demand for me to be working on stunning days like today."
A brawl ensues, but you don't lose your job because there's nobody else around to witness it. They're all off today.
Nah, actually, you know what? It doesn't even matter.
It's the Bank Holiday, you're hardly expect to work to your full capacity.
Nobody else is working. All the regular shops and businesses are closed. You couldn't even pick up a 3in1 in the local Chinese because they decided to give their staff a day off.
Crack open a can of Gordons, girl. Put your feet up. You deserve it.
This isn't work. This is what you make of it.
4. Mental deterioration
You're losing it.
Time has paused, the clocks have stopped, and you haven't blinked in about four whole minutes.
The last time you checked your phone it was 11.47am and you had an unopened Snapchat from some lad you shifted last weekend.
Two hours later and it's only 11.50am but somehow the lad has gone from a photo of his dog to a graphic dick pic.
Your mind - it deteriorates. It will never be the same again.
It's happening. You're doing it.
All of your mates are down in Cork running through the fields blissfully, or sat at the canal sculling warm Orchard Thieves, or doing essentially anything else that doesn't involve working this weekend.
But that's OK. You've accepted it now. You're working the Bank Holiday. It's happening.
And hey look, when all is said and done, you might just get a day in lieu back for your troubles.