Weekends were once the sovereign territory of the working stiff.

[DarkPhenyx]

Every tick and tock between the Friday exodus and Monday was consecrated ground, where a worker could roll down his sleeves, put up his feet and take a well-deserved breather between dances for the Man.

But that was before cell phones, beepers and email crept into our lives. The borders between work and play blurred. Suddenly our employers could reach out and touch us at any conceivable moment and in any conceivable place. Presently we are happy to carry our bosses’ voice in our pockets, we are all but a speed dial away from the very thing we spend our weekends drinking so hard to forget.

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