By
Rowena
Grant-Frost
If you’ve never worked in an
office, just imagine eight hours
of lurching between two feelings:
unstimulated and overwhelmed.
Now, imagine trying to put on a
jumper that doesn’t have a hole for
your head. That is basically what
it’s like all day, every day, 250 days
a year, for the rest of your life.
That is why, when you work in an
office, every public holiday is the
public holiday you really need.
The days are golden. The air smells
sweet. For the 14 hours you’re
conscious and breathing, the world
feels spacious. Life, for a brief
moment, feels like a big, warm
bath, and all you have to do is drift
into the fuzzy, aimless distance.
My deep enchantment with
all things public holiday can
sometimes make me feel bad.
I feel bad about looking forward
to Australia Day. (Can we please
just change the date and get on
with it?) I feel bad I can never
remember the date of Anzac Day.
(I am very sorry, but I really don’t
know if it’s the 25th or 26th.) I feel
bad on Christmas Day; I feel worse
on Boxing Day. I feel like I’ve given
you enough examples, so I’ll stop.
You get it. Work is terrible and
public holidays are nice, but public
holidays can also be bad. I think
we can agree I myself deserve
a parade/public holiday for the
high quality of this observation.
Because I have such a conflicted
relationship with our current
batch of public holidays, I’m not
exactly sure how to come up with
a new one without becoming
completely paralysed. Do I want to
celebrate a person from history?
(Maybe whoever invented the
Monte Carlo biscuit?) Should I try
to come up with something happy
and friendly? (Pat every dog in
the park day!) Or maybe I should
just come up with something silly
and meaningless. (Yes. That is
exactly what I’ll do.) Remember,
I work in an office: silly and
meaningless is all I’m capable of.So, without further dillydallying,
here’s my idea: the public holiday
we really need is whatever date is
chosen by a game show I have just
invented called SPIN THE WHEEL.
The wheel in question lists every
day in the year, from January
1st through to December 31st.
A random member of the public
is asked to spin the wheel – then,
whichever date it lands on is a
public holiday in that given year.
The next year, we spin the wheel
again. This game show is televised
on a free-to-air network, because
I think the broadcast spectrum is
better than digital media. The end.I’m aware this idea is silly,
but it has some redeeming
qualities: 1. It will lead to
endless complaining about how
our economic productivity is
being affected by a big spinny
wheel. This sounds like a good
outcome to me. 2. I can only
imagine SPIN THE WHEEL
will become the most-watched
television event of the year for
the three minutes it’s on. We’ll
all gather round our screens
and eagerly wait to see which
date is chosen. Thus, this idea
creates a sense of COMMUNITY
and EXCITEMENT. 3. It’s possible
you’ll get a public holiday on your
birthday. 4. It highlights how
life is sometimes random and
arbitrary and has wheels in it.So, before you write off the
greatest three-minute television
spectacle Australia has ever seen,
just remember that life is about
finding meaning in how you choose
to spend your time. It isn’t about
the wheel, or the game, or the dog
host named Susan. It’s about having
a blank page of time; a whole day
of whatever you like. Hopefully
I’ll find you in a hammock with a
book on your chest, basking in the
warm sun and brimming with the
kind of happiness only a day off
can give you.By
Sam
Prendergast
Sometimes the things we need
are the things we’d rather avoid,
like setting aside a solid eight
hours to work out exactly why
we should give a shit about the
stream of horrifying ‘world
events’ that flash by on the news
for five seconds, then disappear
from our brains until we find
ourselves sitting in a group full
of people talking in all-knowing
tones. Over the past few years,
I’ve done more than my fair share
of sub-par “hmm”-ing when I’ve
heard words like ‘civil war’ and
‘reality TV star running for US
president’. I’m pretty sure I’m
not alone. It’s easy to say I should
just pull myself together and
make a little time to read beyond
the headlines, but you know what
would be more effective? A day of
national shaming set aside to make
us feel shitty about everything we
don’t know, in the hopes that we’ll
spend time doing some research.A day where Netflix is down,
supermarkets are closed, and the
weather’s so bad that you might
as well sit on your couch and
google, “What’s actually happening
on the Texas-Mexico border”.
Hint: some pretty bad stuff.I’ll admit the idea’s a hard sell,
but it’s helpful to think of this
national day of giving a shit
as a really specific sickie – a
bit of a downer, but ultimately
better than spending a day at
work, and definitely in all of
our long-term interests.Imagine a family barbecue with
a 10 per cent reduction in your
uncle’s fake facts. Even better,
imagine a family barbecue held
on National Find Out What’s
Actually Happening Day, where
everyone joins together to dispute
your uncle’s fake facts! The
miraculous possibilities for awriters’ piece