Weekends are such different animals. The alarm clock is off and the schedule has been shelved, so the pace is more to my liking. Slower. Less frenetic. The radio is tuned to music — maybe alt-rock, maybe blues, maybe pop. The medley of news, traffic, and talk that fills a typical week has been left behind. It’s so much easier to stare at the sun shining through the blinds, to take a leisurely breakfast, to fill a 24 ounce Snoopy mug with Kirkland-brand coffee and a dash of half-and-half, to slowly drink all of it while poring over the day’s crossword puzzle. If we were having coffee I would want to find a device-free zone where I could share the coffee, the music, the puzzle, the conversation. A good cup of coffee ain’t the same without one. The topics could run the gamut: sports, movies, theatre, favorite books. Anything. Even the stuff weekends usually offer a break from. The cat won’t mind.
Eventually the tasks that occupy a typical weekend would have to be tended to. Bills won’t pay themselves; laundry won’t wash itself; the apartment won’t clean itself. I can chase the rhythm of the week away with a book, a movie, or some time on the court at a local park. Maybe even a pick-up game. But eventually it will be back. The alarm clock will chime in. The schedule will return, so will the traffic. They won’t chase the weekend away for long. The music will play again. When it does the Cuisinart will be ready and the corner chair will be waiting. The company? Anything is possible.