i wish weekends were longer ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

i think two days is simply not enough.

i know that sounds dramatic because, technically, a weekend is two whole days. 48 hours. that should be plenty of time, right?

except somehow, it isn’t.

by the time friday comes, i’m already looking forward to sleeping. my weekdays are mostly spent glued to my computer, moving from one thing to another, trying to stay focused while my phone keeps finding new ways to distract me. by friday evening, i don’t necessarily want to do anything exciting. i just want to know that i don’t have to wake up early the next morning and immediately be responsible for something.

i want to sleep in.

and sometimes, that’s exactly what i do. i sleep a lot. i scroll a lot. i stay in bed longer than i probably should. i move through saturday very slowly, and for a while, it feels really good.

then at some point, i start thinking about all the things i could have done.

maybe i could have gone somewhere. maybe i could have met a friend. maybe i could have tried that café i’ve been wanting to visit. maybe we could have driven somewhere in town just because we don’t usually go there. maybe i could have done something productive at home.

and then sunday comes, and i think, wait. that’s it?

i know i just spent the weekend resting, but somehow i still feel like i need another day to actually enjoy the weekend.

maybe this is the problem: i want my weekends to be restful and eventful at the same time.

i want to sleep until i feel human again, but i also want to go somewhere. i want to stay home, but i also want to see people i love. i want to save money, but i also want to eat somewhere nice and make little memories. i want to do absolutely nothing, but i also don’t want to feel like i wasted my two days doing nothing.

adult life is funny like that.

sometimes i think i miss the version of myself who could just make plans without calculating how tired i’d be afterward, how much it would cost, or whether i’d still have enough energy for monday. these days, even fun requires a little bit of planning around my energy. and money, obviously. lol

it’s crazy how adulthood can turn something as simple as a weekend into a negotiation between your time, energy, money, and that tiny voice in your head asking whether you’re making the most of your life. because i’d love to have more eventful weekends. i’d love to go somewhere new, try new restaurants, spend a whole day with friends or family, take little trips, or book a staycation somewhere by the beach.

i love staycations. love them.

if i had it my way, i’d check into a beach resort every saturday, stay there through sunday, and only go home on monday. i don’t even need a packed itinerary. i’d be perfectly happy swimming, eating, taking pictures, sitting around, talking, napping, and doing nothing in a different location.

there’s something about leaving your usual surroundings, even just for one night, that makes it easier to stop thinking about everything waiting for you at home. you wake up somewhere else. you don’t have to rush. you can have breakfast slowly. swim. nap. talk. take pictures. stare at the sea. do absolutely nothing.

and for a little while, nobody is asking you to be productive. nobody needs you to accomplish anything. you just get to be there.

maybe that’s the kind of rest i’m looking for these days. not necessarily sleep, although God knows i need plenty of that. just a little time where i’m not responsible for anything. a little time where i don’t have to think about the next task, the next deadline, the next workday, or the next thing i need to figure out. a little time to be with the people i love without feeling like i’m already thinking about what comes next.

this weekend, i got to spend some time with former officemates. we talked about work, complained about the same things we’ve been frustrated about, laughed, caught up, and basically reminded each other that apparently, we’re all going through some version of the same thing. it wasn’t anything extraordinary, but i came home feeling like i’d actually spent my weekend.

and maybe that’s what an eventful weekend means to me now.

it doesn’t have to be a trip somewhere far away. it doesn’t have to be expensive. it doesn’t have to be full from morning until night.

sometimes it’s just being around people you love and having nowhere else you need to be. sometimes it’s discovering a little place in your own town. sometimes it’s sitting in a café for longer than necessary. sometimes it’s a beach staycation.

and sometimes, honestly, it’s sleeping until noon and scrolling in bed because you spent the entire week staring at a screen and your brain has apparently had enough.

i’m learning that both kinds of weekends count.

the ones where you go somewhere and the ones where you barely leave the house. the ones filled with conversations and the ones where you don’t talk to anyone for hours. the ones where you make memories and the ones where you simply recover enough to face another week.

i just wish there were a little more time for all of it. because two days have to do too much. they have to hold all the things we didn’t have time for during the week. the laundry, the errands, the family time, the friends we haven’t seen, the places we’ve been meaning to visit, the hobbies we’ve neglected, the sleep we’ve been missing, and sometimes, the work that somehow still follows us home.

and somewhere in between all of that, we’re supposed to rest.

no wonder sunday always seems to arrive too quickly.

lately, i’ve been trying not to judge my weekends so much.

if i spent saturday sleeping, maybe i needed the sleep. if i went out and spent time with people i love, maybe that was exactly what i needed too. if i stayed home and did nothing productive, maybe that’s not something i need to apologize for.

i don’t think i’m looking for the perfect weekend anymore. i just want weekends that feel like mine.

sometimes that means a beach, an overnight bag, and a monday i wish would come a little later. sometimes it means good food and long conversations. sometimes it means staying in bed with my phone for an embarrassing number of hours.

and maybe that’s okay.

i’m working most of the week. i’m building things, figuring things out, showing up, trying to keep up. of course i want my weekends to be more than just recovery.

i want to live a little, too.

i just wish i had more than two days to do it.

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