Oh Saturday, I had big plans for you. I was going to get up really early and run with you, when you were cool and crisp and beautiful. Then I was going to bask in your beautiful sunlight as I ran errands about town. I was going to hide out during the hottest part of you, buried deep in the stacks at the Life Sciences Library. Late afternoon we were going to be reunited, cleaning house with the windows wide open. You and I were going to finish strong with dinner plans under a beautiful clear night sky. It was going to be a great day.
Instead I slept and hung out in bed until 1pm, didn't run, tried to go to campus and was thwarted by the stupid football game (only stupid because I couldn't go, mind you), came back home and frustratingly tried to clean the balconies while sweating and pushing hot, dirty hair out of my face. I didn't run, have countless errands left to do, and have not written a single. facking. word. Saturday, I'm breaking up with you. We're through. Maybe Sunday is free and can treat me a little better.
