Sunday afternoon would arrive, and the dread would begin to build. Those dark mental clouds gathering on the horizon, signaling the coming of another Monday morning and the return of the alarm clocks, deadlines, wolfed-down lunches, and all the other stresses that accompany the modern work week. “Is this all there is?” I asked myself. Would I follow the road of the masses, running on the treadmill of life, living for those few precious hours that arrived at the end of each workday and two coveted days of freedom each weekend? Was there really any other choice?