From the New York Times: "About a decade ago I developed a full-blown weekend disorder of my own. Perhaps because I am Jewish, it came on Friday nights. My mood would darken until, by Saturday afternoon, I’d be unresponsive and morose. My normal routine, which involved brunch with friends and swapping tales of misadventure in the relentless quest for romance and professional success, made me feel impossibly restless. I started spending Saturdays by myself. After a while I got lonely and did something that, as a teenager profoundly put off by her religious education, I could never have imagined wanting to do. I began dropping in on a nearby synagogue." Will giving up the amazing meal known as Saturday brunch help you be a better Jew? Maybe. Will it make you truly happy to give up the simple pleasure of drinking a wonderful bloody mary, and eating pancakes with exotic syrups? I don’t think so.
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Bad Jew Gives up Saturday Brunch: God Doesn’t Care
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