‘Perpetual Thursday’
For some, quarantine is blurring the line between the weekend and weekday
“It feels like soon we should go back to our regularly scheduled lives, but it just doesn’t happen.”
Tom Oling, 51, a television planner who lives in Denver, can’t remember the last time he dressed up for the weekend.
“I haven’t worn shoes with laces since April,” he said. “There are now only three to four shirts in the rotation.”
Now that Oling is working from home, every day feels identical whether it’s a Tuesday or a Saturday. He used to drive 45 minutes to work and then go to the gym in his office building. Now every morning he does a 15-minute exercise video followed by a half-hour on a bike.
During the weekday, instead of chatting to his co-workers, he does activities that used to be reserved for the weekend: hanging out with his stepchildren, ages 19 and 15, and playing fetch with his dog. “The kids won’t be in the house forever,” he said. “I feel that in my twilight years I’ll look back and be glad we had this extra time together.”
But how, exactly, to define this extra time?
With white-collar adults retreating from the office and many camps and schools going remote, the line between the weekend and weekday has
— Rachel Sloan-Rittenhouse, a teacher who works with 4- to 6-year-olds
blurred. For some, every day feels like a weekday, marked with household chores, looking after kids and not much recreation. Others, who are working remotely, see every day as a Saturday, with endless opportunities for fun. Either way life now can seem like something out of the movies “Groundhog Day” or “Palm Springs,” with a single day that plays out over and over.
New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo has made a laugh line out of reminding New Yorkers when it’s Saturday, but “it feels like perpetual Thursday,” said Rachel Sloan-Rittenhouse, a teacher who works with 4- to 6-year-olds.
In the spring, when the pandemic was beginning, Sloan-Rittenhouse felt she had some structure in her home in Cashmere, Washington. “My 7-yearold son had schoolwork packets to pick up on certain days, class Zoom calls on other days, and I had my classroom Zoom calls on others,” she said.
“It was easier to try to maintain our internal calendars.”
As the days dragged on, and her family gave up on having a routine, she grew confused about the days. “I would have to check my phone to see what day it was, and I had to set alarms to remember to handle tasks on particular days,” she said. “Nothing makes you feel like a doofus as much as logging in to a first-grade class Zoom meeting with a freshly laundered kid to realize you are the only one there.”
During summer break, Sloan-Rittenhouse settled on the fact that every day was a Thursday, the day when she is tired from the week, still has a lot of tasks to complete but can envision some joy and relaxation in her future. “It feels like soon we should go back to our regularly scheduled lives, but it just doesn’t happen,” she said. “We never quite get to the place where we can rest and play and visit friends.”
“It’s like those exercise videos that make you think you’re on your last round, and then says, ‘One more, push through’ over and over,” she added.
Then there are those experiencing blissful days on repeat.
For Evy deAngelis, 34, a vice president for sales and marketing who lives on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, the pandemic has eliminated a stressful workweek, making every day resemble the weekend. “I don’t get the Sunday scaries anymore,” she said. “I’m perfectly happy sitting out on a Sunday night with a glass of wine until well after midnight, and I don’t stress about the next day at all.”
Before the pandemic deAngelis knew what day it was because of the clothes she wore. No more. “I used to wear heels, a smoky eye and a smooth blowout,” she said. “Now I wear Birkenstocks exclusively, mascara only, and I haven’t heat-styled my hair in months.”
Some people worry that the lack of structure to their week is negatively affecting their mental health.
Luke Geoffrey, 35, a copywriter who lives in Manchester, England, is furloughed, which means every day really does feel like a weekend.
“No morning alarm, no commute,