Some weekends are just better

I had a serene and restful weekend; I’d almost forgotten how moments like that felt.

I’ve been looking worse for wear lately, what with waking up at 5:30am and going to sleep around midnight daily; my little trip hasn’t helped either.

I went to bed early on Friday, it’s actually not that hard to do once you barricade yourself indoors and ignore that fact that your PVR is 95% full.

I woke up leisurely on Saturday morning, took a stroll to the farmers’ market; I abandoned my initial plans for brunch when I couldn’t find anything (I liked) at the market.

Got back home, promised someone I’ll go see them in Surrey, I’ve really got to stop doing that – the day seemed so young and full of possibilities…

When I first moved out here; during my crazed shopping phase, I used to walk over the Burrard Street Bridge to Kits, then walk further out into South Granville and spend the day shopping and browsing and walk back home via the Granville Street Bridge. This, while hard on my wallet turned out to be a great workout.

These days we’d just drive, get what we want and get out (no wonder I started packing on the pounds) – I decided to wonder across the bridge again for the sake of nostalgia. I forgot how much fun it is: walking and shopping two of my favourite things. I showed restrain this time around – I got a laptop bag and a blouse.

I obviously couldn’t make it out to Surrey or anywhere else for that matter when I got home. Home felt so quiet and peaceful, Paul is off to Cabo San Lucas – and as much as I like having him around, the atmosphere was rather calm.

Typically a day for making calls to overseas and busying myself with stuff I shouldn’t be bothering with; I slept throughout Sunday, watched a bit of telly and did my hatha stretches.

I woke up this morning wondering why my weekends aren’t more like this, why am I always trying to pack every sordid activity on earth into a measly weekend?

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