Confession time: I sort of hate the weekend. True story. As if I’m not backwards enough.
I suppose if I had a real job and did the whole working-commuting-rat race thing, I’d love the weekend. For those who spend 40 hours a week at a desk, the weekend brings with it rejuvenation and rest. But, as a stay at home mom for the past 9+ years, every day is pretty much the same, so a weekend day is just like any other. Except, for whatever reason, weekend days throw my schedule into a wonky tailspin.
I don’t like having a wonky schedule.
I do, however, like receiving coupons in the newspaper on Saturday morning. But two measly coupon packets on Saturday morning isn’t enough to make me enjoy the weekend any more. Especially on days such as today when I only received ONE coupon packet which didn’t contain anything remotely interesting.
The radio station I listen to plays strange programming on Saturday mornings. The traffic is bad. The stores are crowded. I don’t go to the gym.
It’s just turrable.
Every birthday I get depressed, not necessarily because I’m getting older, but because I feel like I didn’t enjoy myself enough the previous year. It’s all a vicious circle: I thrive on schedule, routine and familiarity so when that is thrown off I get all bent out of shape and in my usual self-loathing fashion, I feel empty in the end because in my attempt to keep with the safe and familiar routine, I’ve missed out on having real live, actual FUN. But then I start to think that most people in my season of life probably have pretty boring lives, as well. At least I hope so; misery does love company, you now.
Actually, I think my problem is that I read these healthy living blogs written by childless twenty somethings who can do whatever they please whenever they wish. The can get up and run early and then spend the day wine tasting and shopping at the farmer’s market. They can run in any race they want and travel as much as their little hearts desire. Hmmm, jealous, much? They don’t have to worry about soccer schedules, being the only parent for two summers in a row, and making sure their kid sleeps in a bit on the weekend because she’s worn herself out swimming and playing all week.
Clearly my life is far from horrible, but it’s also far from free.
Perhaps I should stop reading these blogs if they’re doing nothing but making me feel resentful and pathetic?
But, if I did stop reading them, I’d having nothing to
write complain about. Ha!
Edited to add: Because the above text is quite downer-ish, I should add that today is a beautiful day. The sky is blue and filled with puffy white clouds; it’s not too hot (and hardly humid at all), which makes me hate the weeekend a little less. However, we just came back from Kohl’s. I never go there on Saturdays because everyone else goes there on Saturday; today was no exception. Caroline found a shirt that she liked last week when she was there with her friends and she wanted to show me. It was on sale, so I thought I’d buy it for her to wear to school in the fall. Unfortunately there were thirty other people in line and neither Caroline nor I wished to stand there for that long to save $8. We’ll go back another time. Or better yet, I may buy it online.