They Only Had Saturdays

　　Belonging as I did to a species which had only ever really known one day, there was initially something quite exciting about having any kind of rhythm at all. But now I was stuck here for good I began to resent humans lack of imagination. I believed they should have tried a little more variety into proceedings. I mean, this was the species whose main excuse for not doing something was 'if only I had more time'. Perfectly valid until you realised they did have more time. Not eternity, granted, but they had tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And the day after the day after tomorrow. In fact I would have had to write 'the day after' thirty thousand times before a final 'tomorrow' in order to illustrate the amount of time on a human hands.

　　The problem lying behind the lack of human fulfillment was a shortage not just of time but imagination. They found a day that worked for them and then stuck to it, and repeat it, at least between Monday and Friday. Even if it didn't work for them - as usually the case - they stuck to it anyway. Then they'd alter things a bit and do something a little bit more fun on Saturday and Sunday.

　　One initial proposal I wanted to put to them was to swap things over. For instance, have five fun days and two not-fun days. That way - call me a mathematical genius - they would have more fun. But as things stood, there weren't even two fun days. They only had Saturdays, because Mondays were a little bit too close to Sundays for Sunday's liking, as if Monday were a collapsed star in the week's solar system, with an excessive gravitational pull. In other words one seventh of human days worked quite well. The other six weren't very good, and five of those were roughly the same say stuck on repeat.

　　... ...

The Humans, P197-198
Matt Haig
ISBN 978-0-85786-876-3