TGIF!  I say that to fit in.  I don’t really subscribe to it. 

Not to leave you men out – but generally for women, especially working women with children, the weekend is as much work as Monday-Friday.

TGIF I think was coined by single people in their 20’s with Friday night plans and no weekend responsibilities. 

For me, it means I get to stay up past my bedtime (which I struggle to do if I’m being honest, gawd I’m getting old lol).  I try! I do!  I struggle and end up like a sleepy toddler fighting sleep, just to take advantage of the fact that I don’t have to hit the hay at 9pm. 

So much for that myth that ‘grown ups get to do whatever they want’.  HA! 

It means I don’t have to set the alarm for Saturday – but my internal clock doesn’t cotton to ‘sleeping in’ and neither does Butters, my staring, wagging early bird dog.

Saturday means, errands.  Groceries are gathered, the house is cleaned, and of late, Nic and I have decided it serves us well to clean the offices Saturday night to afford us one more morning of ‘sleeping in’.  He manages this – we’ve established I don’t.  But it’s still nice to get up with some measure of leisure.

Laundry – that’s the Sunday task.  And I have this bonkers clock thing going when it comes to Sunday.  A countdown.  Only 10 hours ’til bedtime, 8 hours ’til bedtime, 4, 3, 2 … crap, Monday is around the corner. That’s how Sunday goes.

There are times it’s more relaxing to actually BE at work. 

One day, I’ll schedule a ‘staycation’ and clean like a fiend and shuffle around in my PJ’s with NOTHING on the agenda.  ^_^