It’s a funny thing, but it took retirement to make me fully appreciate — and celebrate — weekends as an adult.
It feels like this should be the other way around. That I should have looked forward to weekends all those years of being a working stiff, and then lost track of when a weekend even was once I had no Mon-Fri, 9-5 ball and chain weighing me down. But during all my “earning” years, I almost always worked over the weekend. Sometimes I would bring the work home with me, but more often than not I would just go into the office.
And on those occasions when I really was keenly aware of the approaching weekend, it could even be a source of stress. In addition to everything I thought I needed to get done at the office, there were additional parenting commitments, as well as the occasion dinner party to cook for, or date with knittingniki. Those were all wonderful things, of course, but the stress of having to do them all and get through a pile of office work made me often dread Saturdays and Sundays,
Now that I am retired, weekends are actually… well, weekends. For the first time in my life since school, weekends are things I use to break up and track time. And now that I technically don’t even have weekend, they’re also something I look forward to. A lot.
This weekend, the hope is to get in some rest and relaxation. I have a trip to Powell’s Books planned for either today of first thing in the morning, and Agnostic God willing I’ll find at least a couple of books to disappear into before Monday. There will be a wee bit of work as well, of a house husband sort: Monday night we are having one of those corporate schmooze-fest dinner parties for twelve of fifteen of knittingniki’s colleagues, and so I will probably want to use part of Sunday to shop and do some prep cooking. That way, hopefully, Monday will not be such a stressed affair that I eventually want to punch every guest in the face just for ringing our doorbell that evening.
I may also watch the Seahawks and the Oregon games. (Oh, how the mighty have fallen.) And there will definitely be some hardcore Dodger rooting, and at no time now or later will I point out to Schilling that the Dodgers are in the post season and the Giants aren’t. Because that would be small and petty. And childish. So I will refrain.
I am very mature that way.
So what’s on your docket?