[found via tumblr.]
As a kid, I never imagined it could be possible to crave the weekend as much as I do now. Two entire days of endless possibility. 48 hours plus of free time.
Okay, so that's a tad dramatic, but you get it. You know what I mean.
After a workweek, my Saturdays and Sundays are usually reserved for traveling, QT with ST and catching up with my girlfriends. But even so, when Sunday night rolls around and I don't feel as though I "accomplished" anything, I feel this pang of guilt. Disappointed in myself on some level. I'm trying hard to find a good balance of indulging in the relaxation bit and still feeling like I wasn't a total waste of space, but it's a work in progress.
That being said, I made it to 8:30 a.m. Pure Barre on Saturday and basically feel like I could slay a dragon. Coupled with the fact that it was 20 degrees when I left the house, I really feel like I'm a badass. I managed to swing by Trader Joe's, find a birthday card for my stepmom and dear friend Joslyn at Paper Source, and head to the post office to send off aforementioned birthday gift. Color me accomplished.
This morning, we had birthday brunch for Jos at a favorite place, and I drank in a two-hour nap when I got home, which was utterly glorious. Time with my girlfriends always revives my soul. And snugs with Maiz? Well... icing on the cake.
And now onto my obscenely tall glass of riesling, some Downton and Girls, thank you very much.
What's your take on the weekend? Is it exclusively for r&r or do you feel the same guilt I feel?
Hope your weekend was just lovely!!