The hard part about Saturdays is that I have to make a decision. There are so many ways to go, and it comes just once a week, so it's important to choose wisely.
The right and proper thing to do would be to get all the work done that I didn't get to during the week. It's a perfect chance to plow through all those stubborn spreadsheets without being interrupted by the phone. If I'd gone this way, I could be announcing that I'm ready to send everything to the accountant and be done with my part of it.
That wasn't how I spent my Saturday, though.
Another possibility was to get caught up on all the tedious chores that I find excuses to neglect all week. There are always piles of papers to be dealt with, windows that could stand washing, about an acre of white carpeting that isn't remotely white. Then there's the bathroom, but let's not go there. Trust me on that.
Of all those jobs, I tackled exactly none today. It was much too fine a day to stay in and swab out the moldy tub.
If I hadn't slept so late this morning, I might have managed all of the above. It's hard not to waste half of a Saturday when your Friday night ends so late. I just couldn't pick myself up off the couch and go to bed, not with all those movie channels lined up, and a universal remote control at hand.
I went up and down the listings, mostly watching the ends of movies I've already seen. Author! Author!. The Fringe Dwellers. And the exquisite last half hour of The Sixth Sense, which no matter how many times I've seen it (and it's a lot) still brings a chill to my spine and tears to my cheeks. Every time.