Tomorrow is Labor Day, a moment for us to recognize the many contributions workers have made to America’s strength, prosperity, and well being. It’s an important day. It’s also a three day weekend, which on the surface sounds amazing. Who doesn’t want another day in the weekend? Well, I don’t. Now, before you think I’m just a grumpy old man who looks really good cause he lost some weight, allow me to explain. These three day weekends are always followed by a stressful four day work week. Things we normally would do in a five day work week are now stuffed into four days. I don’t like that. Waking up after a three day weekend is never fun. That extra day of sleeping in for me convinces my body that I’ll never have to wake up early again. Waking up a teenager on a Tuesday after a three day weekend is virtually impossible. Unnecessary drama. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. It makes more sense to play volleyball with a hornet’s nest. I don’t want that. Three day weekends present unnecessary pressure to socialize. If it’s a normal weekend like god intended, I don’t have to do anything. But you add just one day more to a weekend and suddenly I’m hosting a barbecue, strangers are coming over and looking at my stuff for some reason. I’m being invited to my daughter’s boyfriend’s dad’s uncle’s place for a night in Rhode Island. I don’t want to do any of that. Three day weekends always mean travel disasters. Doesn’t matter which day you travel on a three day weekend, there’s traffic. A drive that normally would take 40 minutes suddenly now takes 12 hours. I’m convinced some of those three day weekend drivers are paid by the government to get in my way. You probably think I’m being paranoid, but you know who invented the three day weekend? That’s right. The government. Hmm. Think about it.