If you're rolling back the sheets this morning and starting slow, you rock.
Do you have a Saturday?
I want one.
On the whole, I think I have a fairly decent maneuvering of new places, people, and things.
For a year I've lived a week of no Saturdays and hardly thought much of it.
That is other than when summer wedding season rolls around and I need to ask off work for an ungodly amount of said Saturdays.
But lately I feel myself starting to drag a bit on the Saturday work coverage thing at the hospital.
I think I can recover from this slump all in good time, but spring has a way with making one want to fly the coop.
Spring breaks winter's will, but it breaks mine as well.
Work? No thanks. I want to go to the park in the morning.
And then out to breakfast, like this one day.
This one day was not a Saturday, but its costume was pretty convincing.
Tell me, what does Saturday mean to you?