Saturday mornings.

Recently, I have found myself living for the weekend. Saturday morning rolls around, and I’ll wake up in a panic at 7am thinking I am going to be late for work. That moment where reality sets in, I realise the day, and I smile as I drift off back to sleep for a few hours, is one of my favourite feelings of the week.

When I eventually wake up, I unapologetically lie in bed on my phone for an hour, catching up with the world, before dragging myself out of bed and making coffee no.1 of the day. Good things came from this mug last weekend.

As I sat hunched over this coffee, smiling to myself at the thought of two blissful days to do whatever I want, I began thinking. Thinking about how “living for the weekend” is, in essence, wishing away 70% of your life. If you are not enjoying that 70%, the vast majority, what are you doing? What is the point of it all?

Life is too damn short to be unhappy. To feel stuck, to feel like you need to wish your time away to survive.

On Monday, I strolled into work and slapped my notice of resignation on my boss’s desk. The next day, I landed my dream job. And I realised that everything I have ever known was about to change.

Song: Sweet Disposition – The Temper Trap