Ever since starting college last year, I live for the weekends more than I ever did before.
Monday morning the countdown begins for Friday afternoon’s arrival; the promise of sleep, of fun, of friends, of laughter, of a brief absence of rushing from one place to the next.
As I said at lunch on Friday, life is so very much like a game of hurry up and wait. How quickly can the weekdays go by so that Friday can be among us once again?
So when the weekend gets here, we do every thing in our power to cherish, memorialize, and capture every little ounce of sweet weekend that we can.
We plan out studying, cleaning, homework-ing, laundry-ing, before the weekend even gets here so as to more effectively use our time (typically this means it waits until Sunday, if it isn’t accomplished Friday afternoon.)
So we nap, and go on adventures, and we just simply are.
This was a relatively easy-going weekend. We didn’t go anywhere, didn’t have any crazy adventures like the last few weekends, but this was one of the weekends that I’ll look back on and remember fondly one day. Because those crazy adventure-packed, fun-filled weekends are wonderful and I love them, but the lounge around, sit and talk about everything weekends are just as magical. Simple and sweet and just as lovely.
They’re sleeping in until noon.
Going to football games and talking to the president and parents visiting for Family Weekend as we run the banner-voting table.
They’re three hour naps under tons of blankets, falling asleep to Season 1 episodes of LOST with M.
They’re spending two hours at dinner, talking to the people coming and going, dissecting the traditions and customs and comparing them amongst northern and southern friends.
They’re all cramming into a dorm room and talking about our childhoods, about our future children and their childhoods.
They’re joking about John the Baptist at dinner and the speed in which certain athletes walk around the KCC.
They’re magical. They’re simple. They’re us in a nutshell.
And they’re the days I will always remember.