Saturday has handily become my favorite day of the week.  “What about Friday?” you may ask.  Nope.  Not even close.  “Sunday Fun Day?”  Please.  Also, that expression has become irritating beyond belief.

Saturday is glorious for so many reasons, but the main reason is the abundance of time it affords.  If I choose to make the most of the day and not waste it by sleeping late, I can go to a workout class, run errands, watch a marathon of shows, cook, do laundry, organize my closet, and socialize in the evening.  You might be thinking, did you forget your house cleaning?  I’m one step ahead of you.  I’ve disciplined myself to clean my apartment Friday evenings so I don’t spend time doing it Saturday or Sunday.  Brilliant.

When the weather is good, my mood improves tremendously at the start of a Saturday.  I bask in the sunshine and relish the hours I have to myself.  I feel genuinely happy on Saturdays, which speaks volumes about my general mood during the work week.

This elation over a free day must transfer to Sunday, right?  Sadly, it does not.  By Sunday afternoon, I start to dread the upcoming work week.  By Sunday evening, I’m in a funk and annoyed at the fading hours.  The clock ticks ominously, tauntingly, cruelly.

“Suck it up,” you’re probably shouting.  I know, I know.  I should be grateful for being employed.  Things could be so much worse.  I need to embrace the magic of Saturday and let it stomp Sunday gloominess into the ground.  After all, the Roman god Saturn, from whose name Saturday derives, was the god of plenty, wealth, periodic renewal, and liberation.  Some texts name him the god of time.*  Here’s to the provider of free time!

*Source:  Wikipedia (