I always think that I will have more time on a weekend, or a day off, than I really do.
Maybe that is poorly stated. Clearly I’m aware that every day is made up of 24 hours, no matter the day of the week. I suppose it would be much more appropriate for me to say that I always believe I can fit more in to a weekend or day off than is realistically feasibly possible.
I’m not sure why. One would think that I would have learned my lesson by this point in my life. But no, each and every day off I set myself up for the same frustration. I’m hoping I’m not the only Real Woman who feels this way — because, after all, misery loves company.
Generally my weekends all start the same way — as I’m getting out of bed, I’m mentally considering all of the activities I “need” to do, and everything I “want” to do. By breakfast, I have a rough sketch in my head of what my day will entail, and how I will go about making it all happen. I may or may not share my plans with the men in my household — generally not, as they tend to get nervous when I start planning the day. It could go something like this: Do some cleaning/laundry/chores in the morning….head to the grocery store by late morning to knock that out. Be home for lunch to regroup with the rest of the household members, then be able to head out to do ___ activity by 2pm…be home in time to make an early supper and have the rest of the evening for ___ other activities.”
Gotcha. Sounds simple enough, and it certainly sounds completely do-able in my freshly optimistic day-off morning head. But yet, something goes amiss along the way. I somehow step through a portal into a different time dimension. I move away from my fantasy of everything runs smoothly, and into reality. I believe it has something to do with the fact that I have not mentally allowed enough time to complete each item. Can I really get the house cleaned and the laundry done by 10:30am? Not likely. Have I considered the crowds or slow traffic on the way to run errands? Of course not. Then there are the add-ons… those activities I had not previously taken into consideration. Oh, it is nice out, I really should take the dog for a long walk and get him some exercise... or ooops, forgot, I need to log on and pay these bills… or our son needs to be delivered to any of his multiple social activities, or gee, I really need to call a couple of family members to check in… and so it goes.
I have determined that each day off, I can plan to run a minimum of an hour to ninety minutes behind schedule. Dinner is never early. No matter what I have planned for the day, dinner will be around 7pm or later. Which, as you can guess, sets the domino effect into play for any other plans I had for the rest of the evening.
Notice a phrase I just used: “behind schedule.” Aren’t days off supposed to be the days where there is no schedule? Aren’t they supposed to be about relaxing, going at a slower pace, doing what we want whenever we want? Ha, I make me laugh.
Mind you, in my family, we are capable of slowing down and going with the flow…but that is only if we step through yet another portal of time dimension: vacation. Time is just different in that lovely world. OR, if we specifically plan a day for just fun and relaxation, we can pull it off. Ironic, isn’t it? We have to plan a day to not have a schedule.
I find comfort in the fact that at some point, even if I’m running late, or miss getting other things done, we do find some time for family outings or for some form of “leisure” activity on most days off. This afternoon, for example, my son and I were able to take a break and do some sledding — we didn’t get to the sledding hill as early as I’d hoped, so we had a bit less time than we probably would have liked, but at least we got out there. And for that bit of time, schedules didn’t matter. Sliding down the hill laughing and enjoying a beautiful winter day was the focus.
With that thought in mind, gotta run — I’ve scheduled in some feet-up tv time to end my weekend, and I don’t want to be late.
I know the feeling! Well, let me clarify, I know the feeling of having a bunch of overly ambitious plans for the weekend and then having reality set in. But admittedly, my reality is really just laziness, not lack of time. I always tell myself that I’m going to get up early (which on a weekend is no earlier than 8 or 9) and work out, clean the house, do the ironing, organize stuff, go shopping, run errands, and spend some time relaxing. Then Saturday comes and I barely manage to roll out of bed at 10:30 and that list is the last thing I want to look at..