Saturday used to have so much meaning. I used to sleep in and sit around in my PJ's until who knows when. When I was in college, it meant getting up in time so you didn't miss Brunch at the cafe with the beautiful scrambled eggs and communal plate piled high with tater tots. And when I was really little, it meant watching cartoons on the couch with my kitties.
Now, its just another day for homework. I rarely let myself sleep more than 9 hours (I used to sleep for 12 hours on Saturdays), and I'm usually up by 9am and working on something or other.
And last night it just hit me that Saturday is meaningless to me, now. Maybe that will change this summer... I can dream, can't I?
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