My weekend

Yesterday, I thought for quite a bit.
I was thinking about my weekend. Every Sunday night, I'd tend to sit down in front of the computer and start thinking about the weekend that passed.
"So how was the weekend?"
I would ask myself.

This weekend, I do not have an answer.
I cannot begin to describe how was my weekend.
I was happy, yet sad.
I was smiling, yet crying.
I enjoyed it, yet hated it.

Its hard to compartmentalise your thoughts when you think like the way I think.
Its frustrating.
How I hate it when weekends are like that.
Just when I thought I am happier, I am sad. Just when I thought things are picking up, I fall.

My heart is heavy, and I am feeling oh-so-weary.
Its September.
I love September.
I hate it when songs there are songs like Wake me up when September ends.
WHAT is your problem?
Of all months.
Why must it be September?