Maybe you’ll find this weird. No problem, I find it weird as well. For a couple of weeks now, Saturday has become my ultimate down-day of the week. Maybe these are the reasons:
- my weeks are filled with thrilling, new experiences day after day. I’m drowning in lesson-prep work, but that keeps me focused. All week long I keep myself on a kind of energy-high to keep on going.
- also all week long, I miss P, and I look forward to Saturday. In my mind, Saturday will be this absolutely great day, when we will do tons of fun and romantic stuff together, making up for the time we were apart.
- I also expect, week after week, that *this* Saturday we will be a few steps further in the whole wedding planning.
And then comes Saturday.
- P is too tired for words from another killing work week. He sleeps until noon, and I don’t blame him (as I have woken him up once again in the middle of the night with one of my “screaming nightmares”)
- I want to share all the happiness and excitement I’ve felt during the week, but, as we are on such different wavelenghts, find that very hard to do.
- When everybody is awake, there’s a little piece of the day left, in which have to fit all hopes and dreams for the weekend. At the end of the day, we’re not one step closer to organising the wedding – because, understandably, after a very stressful week, the last thing P needs is stress about the wedding.
- I feel down and lonely, because once again “waiting for Saturday” has become a disappointment. And what I’ve been looking forward too all week, again didn’t happen.
Comes Sunday, with sports, family visits and preparing for work, and voilà, the weekend is over. Time to hope and dream about the next one....
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