Saturday musings

by Emma

Weekend.

That one word promotes gratitude. Another working week finished.

2 full days of nothingness. Two wondrous lazy mornings. No annoying alarm clocks or dark morning zombie treks.

If you work a weekend then I apologise. This post is therefore highly discriminative and I completely acknowledge it may cause irritation. In my defence however, your own weekend is interpretive to your associated days. Indeed your weekend may then lie on a Monday and a Tuesday. It is then your choice to consider this post in relation.

Ok, now I have defended my bases, let’s continue to praise these days.

Weekend becomes a shared highlight for many of us. A hot spot on our journey. It becomes a base we aim to touch. A safe haven to offer us recovery time. A reward.

We savour those two days. Whether it be family time, party time, or simply relaxation time, we protect and honor these precious ‘S’ days.

Personally there is nothing better than stretching out on a morning with that amazing realisation that I do not need to get up. That one feeling says it all. A lazy but filling breakfast (usually including sausages and bacon) provides satisfaction and the easy motivation to plan out my free days.

Saturday is my fun day. Sunday is my relaxing day. I honour both days equal. Saturday offers me pleasure and stimulation, yet Sunday soothes my aches and strokes my ego. Sunday offers me reflective time.

We have all heard the old chestnut ‘don’t wish your days away’. This is true. I acknowledge it, I even agree with it. My concious self remains logical yet my inner child says ‘stuff it, I want my weekend’. It is definitely an internal battle.

We shouldn’t wish our life away. We should enjoy every single day but do we all want to remain righteous all of the time?

I’m within the lucky few. I love my job completely. Yet regardless of this, my inner child still cries out for fun and self enjoyment. Freedom to choose and freedom to do. Our working weeks are so regimented and strict. Sometimes our psyche needs down time.

We do not live to work. We work to live.

Yes I am a 9 -5 girl. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

My weekends become my sanctuary. My sweet reward. My wishful thinking. It’s wrong, but it is simply as it is.

The mind of a deep thinker…or complete rubbish…it is all down to interpretation and perception…

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