It’s Sunday.

7 PM.

You sit down on your easy chair, remote in hand and start surfing. One of your favorite brain dead reality shows comes on and you sink in to enjoy the escape.

But before you really get into the zone, you begin to feel your heart race.

“Drat! Why aren’t weekends three days long…then I’d have some time to really relax.”

Just thinking about going back to the job on Monday sends a ripple through your body that ends squeezing your stomach queezy.

Your last nerve is frazzled.

One more bill…one more phone call…one more demand…

Aaak!

“Go away…just go away.”

You feel like jumping off a cliff would be welcome relief.

“Put me out of my misery.”

You may even be engaging in murderous fantasies of your boss, coworkers, kids, mother-in-law or spouse.

Or…

thinking of paying Guido’s cousin (twice removed) 50 bucks to take out