On weekends, many people experience a marked drop in levels of hatred. It is often thought that this sensation of relative calm is a psychological response to the various appealing aspects of the time off work. No rush-hour tube journeys, mongoloid colleagues or HR Department sub-humans ruining your fucking life every twenty minutes, for example.
In fact, this brief hiatus from a week full of the purifying holy rapture of caustic anger is due to the fact that the human body simply cannot maintain such levels of teeth-clenching fury for an entire week. In effect, the rage just boils right out of you, you fucking slut. In extreme cases, it can be observed with the naked eye, rising from the body as steam. The cycle then continues afresh on Monday morning, round about the time your boss asks you if you had a nice weekend.