Long Weekend: Blessing or Curse?

Oh the May Long Weekend. The first "official" kick off to summer. Widely viewed by teens everywhere as a good excuse to drink their faces off and play around bonfires (sounds like a scenario for Good Idea, Bad Idea to me).
I love a three day break, and actually managed to luck out and get a full three days off of work. Brad and I were dog-sitting Maggie for the weekend. On Saturday she was a nervous wreck that we were going to abandon her, so one of us had to be with her at all times (and by “with her” I mean physically by her side, otherwise she’d lose it and cry and whine and whimper at that shrill decible where dogs on the other side of town could hear her distress). By Sunday she was far more relaxed, and Monday she was a well-behaved dog (mostly). So, while Brad was very productive, I was not. Whatever, I managed to sun my legs a little and finish my book.
Sounds like a reasonable weekend, right? It was. The downside is this: after three days of going to bed late and sleeping in (even if it’s just until 9), and my inner clock is totally out of whack. I couldn’t for the life of me fall asleep last night, and maybe got 2 or 3 hours of sleep...not that nice to begin with, but even worse when those hours are just a compilation of 10 and 20 minutes here and there.
The other nice thing about a long weekend is the short week that follows, which means I only have to worry about getting through four days with a screwy inner clock.