Saturday and Sunday are the only 2 days of the week that matter. Monday thru Friday are just days I spend in the office making money for my retirement.
That reminds me of a country western song I heard a few weeks ago. Something about working all week to put butter on his biscuit.
Any way, I just looked at the clock and saw it's already past noon. I thought "Where does the time go?" Then the little voice inside my head replied, "Duh. You didn't get up till 10 o'clock so where do you think the time went?"
And I replied, "Oh, right." Not really a snappy comeback but it was all I had. When the little voice is right, it's right. I didn't go to bed till after midnight but I caught up on some of the sleep I missed during the week. I've been working a day shift for over 20 years now but my body still thinks we work evenings and nights, or it thinks it's still 29 and we can get by on 6 hours of sleep a day.
And that we can still eat butter on our biscuits.
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