Saturday

Is there anything better than a gloomy Saturday when you know you have no responsibility to leave the house?

Raindrops gently tapping the window panes as you wait for the kettle to boil for your third cup of tea.

You could go out, sure. You could do the grocery shopping to top up your fridge, or you could finally drop that bag of clothes donations to the charity shop.

You remember the last ten Saturdays in a row: you’ve had plans, you’ve run errands, you’ve begrudgingly set an alarm ahead of the train you needed to catch.

You consider the next ten Saturdays in a row: coffee meetings, day trips, coach tickets already booked, promises made and time slots allocated weeks in advance.

Pouring hot water into your tea-stained mug, you shake off the guilt of feeling lazy today. Laziness is such a privilege.

There is nothing better than a gloomy Saturday when you know you have no responsibility to leave the house.