Post-Diwali blues, on National hangover Day

Oh ho, hmm (background score: Mr Santa Strikes the Keyboard), after a long, long time. On a day with no newspapers; post-Diwali, of course. Life sounds a little less rosy; without those sounds, lights, fights, bits and bytes of P3 and such overtly happy images strung together with words.
Lucky, at least I don’t have a kid or a dog; or they would have had to do with old papers from the stack today. And, trust them, that’s no fun.
But — and here’s the inevitable poser for the day — why do all journalists in all newspapers in almost all cities need a daylong off to hit the bottle all together? (I go under the presumption that most journalists, save some irritatingly sane ones, do the only earth shatteringly ponderous thing worth every bit of their journalse on such holidays; i.e. sit in front of a bottle and see it go from full to half-full to, hic, fulltoo).
And why, pray, on the other hand, don’t TV journalists get a break? (I go under the presumption, of course, that most human beings, save some irritatingly insane ones, do the only earth shatteringly ponderous thing worth every bit of their sanity every day of their life; i.e. sit in front of TV, with the news channel switched on for lack of better entertainment, and wonder why those overworked characters putting together the item numbers on the news slots ask for more holidays. Both for themselves and us).
There was no cricket match on the telly today (to give them all a break on the National Hangover Day, of course), so I watched some TV news this afternoon while getting ready, nursing The Hangover and trying not to get late for office (all at the same time; my IQ level, as you can gauge from this testimony, is definitely not in the negative). There was haze all over; in the Delhi air, as reported duly by TV. Brillianto, methinks. Bring out the sting operation on Aeges mosquito now. I can almost smell the deathly opening score as the anchor describes the inhuman torture meted out to their whole tribe by blast-crazy Delhiites.
Suddenly sober, I rest my case.
(Background score: Oh Surreal, Oh Surreal, Mr Banta Gets Nariyal)