After a year of long working weeks and of weekends that always ended too soon, this weekend is endless.
I slouch on the sofa, eat pizza slices and read fanfic. Dragged myself out of the house twice, for zumba and volleyball, then went back to the sofa and the pizza. I have slept in, pondered the meaning of life and made some progress reading a difficult novel. And somewhere among all this even found the time to hoover the flat and do laundry. This is more than I usually accomplish in an entire week. And the weekend is not even over yet.
Fascinating, the new perspective you get on weekends, on everything, when you know that on Monday morning, your safe and slightly boring job may no longer exist.
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