It’s powerful, it dominates our thoughts and for many of us, it’s what gets us through the working day. The weekend. For one evening and two whole days we can do whatever we want. Whether it’s action packed, relaxing or the perfect combination of both, the best weekends are when they’re ours. When we get to choose what to do with that precious time. In theory, the world is our oyster. But for many, it’s a carefully regimented series of activities designed to appease as many people as possible.
Take Friday night for example. For me wine, an easy-to-prepare dinner and some light-hearted television which requires the bare minimum of thought is ideal. Then I start enjoying it too much and before I know it, the early night I had planned since the alarm went off on Monday morning has disappeared.
Then Saturday morning isn’t the bright and breezy start I’d imagined followed by a productive workout. It’s a lazy lie-in, arguing over who lets the dog out and debating the impact of the weather on aforementioned planned activities.
A brief spell of activity then a bath and its Sunday afternoon and life admin creeps back in. Washing, making lunches, and ironing. All the fun stuff. Around then I start pledging to get more organised for the next weekend. To maximise the potential of my precious spare time and not let it run away. But is it really that my weekend escapes me or is it that for that I’m doing what I want to at that point in time? Surely that is the sole point of a weekend? One thing is a certainty though, whatever you do, make sure you love it and fill it with plenty of laughter.
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