A Week of Saturdays

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One doesn’t hear the phrase “a month of Sundays” very often anymore. It’s a good phrase, usually used to describe a length of time, as in “Boy, I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.” I believe it implies that you haven’t seen someone or done something in thirty Sundays, or thirty weeks, which is slightly over half a year. Quite understandably, we’ve adopted the phrase “Man, I haven’t done that in forever” instead.

I don’t need a month of Sundays. Admittedly, it would be nice to go to church every day and take a nap every afternoon and not have to think about school simply because I’d never be able to go because, well, church. but that’s not what I need. i don’t need slightly over half a year to rest and recuperate. My needs aren’t so drastic.

No, I just need a week of Saturdays.

I need one Saturday, then another Saturday after that, then yet another Saturday after that. I need a Saturday to sleep. I need a Saturday to clean my apartment and do laundry. I need a Saturday to do homework and projects. I need a Saturday to do wedding planning. And then three more Saturdays to do fun things and get ahead on classwork.

But no. I get one Saturday a week, and I have to fit everything into that Saturday that I possibly can before collapsing in an exhausted heap into my bed, still left unmade form this morning.

That would be nice.

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Ramble back at me...

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