I know Sunday is many people’s official day of rest, but for me it’s all about the Saturday mornings. They’re one of my favourite parts of the week. Mostly because I’m lazy.
Sundays are good too, obviously. But Sundays always have that “back to school” feeling about them, don’t they? Even for people like me, who don’t actually GO to school. Or, you know, to a “real” job. On Saturday, though, the whole weekend still stretches out in front of you, and it can be anything you want it to be. And what I mostly want it to be is super-lazy, so I like to start the way I mean to go on.
Terry has a long-standing arrangement to meet up with some of his friends on Saturday mornings (They used to go hill-walking and do other, similarly adventurous stuff, but most of us have moved house at some point within the past couple of years, so now they mostly go from house to house, bartering services in a kind of “you help me dig up my garden and I’ll help you paint your fence” kind of arrangement. It’s pretty good deal for me, because not only do I no longer have to worry about Terry falling off a mountain or something, I also get stuff done for free around my house: sweet!), so it’s just me and Rubin, with the entire house to ourselves for a few hours.
Those of you who have children, or weekend jobs, or, well, lives, will probably hate me for this, but I like to spend most of that time in bed. I don’t actually spend the time sleeping, I hasten to add – or not often, anyway. I have far too much relaxin’ to fit in to waste my time sleeping, so I normally get up fairly early, make myself a large mug of coffee, and then bring it back to bed, along with Rubin and my iPad/Kindle. Sometimes if I’m REALLY lucky, Terry will be up in time to bring me a tray of breakfast things, as if I’m in a hotel*. He’s good like that. Also, I would LIVE in a hotel if a possibly could, so I like to try and replicate the experience at home any chance I get. That’s why I sometimes get up early and barge into the room with the hoover while Terry’s still in bed, and then rearrange all his stuff while he’s in the shower.
I read. I catch up on Bloglovin’. I paint my nails. I have Netflix marathons. I do whatever the hell I feel like, for just a few short hours, and it’s absolute bliss. I mean, adventures are great, don’t get me wrong… but sometimes I think my absolute favourite thing to do is… absolutely nothing.
By the time Terry comes home, I’ll be up and dressed, and ready to head to my parents’ place for dinner (another favourite part of my week), but heaven help anyone who disturbs my lazy Saturday mornings: the perfect way to start the weekend…
* Other times I’ll have instant coffee and a Rice Krispie Square. Come on, you didn’t think I’d stand and cut the crusts off my toast myself, did you? So many books, so little time…