You wake me gently with promises of long hours spent together...hours and hours to fill with a week's worth of dreams, plans and longings.
I rise and we have a leisurely breakfast. No rush, you tell me. There's plenty of time.
With your whispered reassurances warm in my ear, I linger a few extra minutes on the back porch with the critters, Max and Frankie, after their breakfast...scratching Max's neck, chirping back and forth with Frankie, sipping my coffee and listening to the roar of the little waterfall below me. Such a relaxing change from the rush, rush, rush of the work week.
There's some laundry that needs folding, dust that needs removing, papers that need filing, but you convince me I have time to check my email, talk to each of my babies on the phone, go for a long walk along the creek with the guys, and lounge on the couch with my sweetie, imagining ourselves trodding narrow streets in Seville with Rick Steves via his "Travel in Europe"...without even folding the clothes or multi-tasking in any way.
But then, before I know it, it's time to head out the door to a birthday party and I haven't scratched a single thing off of my list! What happened? Where did the day go? The hours have slipped through my fingers...time gone that I can never get back.
Once again, I fell for your smooth, sweet-talking lies, just like last week...and the week before that. I sigh, looking back on the day, and realize, This was a good day.
Thank you, Saturday. Same time, next week?
