Yay Saturday. That mythical creature that you wait for with baited breath, yet it leaves and seems as though it never actually happened. How is that? It seems like every Sunday night, I realize I have to wake up for work the next morning and think, “wait, what did I do yesterday? Did I do anything?”
So today, we woke up crazy late (which is always fabulous) then went to a new place for breakfast (super tiny local spot, awesome). I got some awesome stuff for dinner and a little yard work done, but still feel like “what the heck is happening to this day?”
It’s about dinner time. I’m not sure what I would prefer to happen with this day. It always feels wasted, and if you get a butt-load done, then you feel like you didn’t have a Saturday.
You know what? I don’t like Saturday. You can’t win.