The favorite sin
You get out of work on Friday afternoon, the week was cluttering and exhausting, and suddenly you realize: You have nothing planned all weekend. Apart from the usual exceptions, there is no better feeling in the world. "No plans, it just can not be," I say, as I uncork a small red wine to open my free time. "Big shopping," says Luise, "that's all." "Let's do it tomorrow," I say and give it in. Emphasize calmly, so as not to show me anything, because I have devilish intentions: I will tempt my girlfriend to commit the ultimate recreational sin with me. I'll make sure we do not kick the door all weekend.
Two things can be started with a free weekend: everything and nothing. Usually one decides for the first, from sense of duty and fear of adjustment. Finally we have time. For jogging. For the new exhibition. For friends we have neglected for far too long. If we plan closely, we could even skip the lumber room to become a guest room. It's so easy to do all that and do little about it. To then, unhappy and stressed, on Sunday evening to have another planned, verhackstücktes weekend check off. But even if one succeeds in avoiding all appointments and self-commitments and doing "nothing"? One thing remains: you have to go out at least once. Everyone knows that being outdoors is good because it's healthy (exercise, fresh air, etc.). And here begins the sin. If you allow yourself the opposite of what is good for you because you like the opposite even better right now.
If you do not want to set foot on the weekend, you have to be strategic. Friday is no problem. We drink red wine and eat while standing out of the fridge, then we look no matter what on TV and go to bed early, that's what we deserve, the week was tough.
The big problem is Saturday. Saturday is a blueprint magnet Saturday cries out to the outside world. One can counter this by first staying in bed under all possible pretexts for a long time. As a pretext are sex, simply lie, the weekend edition of the local newspaper. Then you can stage a full breakfast, which runs until the early afternoon. We have now reached this point, Luise wants to go shopping, I hold against it by suggesting to rearrange the living room. Luise loves to rearrange. Then the two sofas are much better, we lie on each one and enjoy the new sense of space. I'm too lazy to get up, "says Luise, and that's what I've won for today. We make pizza and salads on the phone, eat right out of the box, hunker down, even start entertaining us properly. What you never do when you have plans. Sunday is easy. To do something else now would be inconsistent, wanted and exaggerated. Wonderfully slowly the day dissolves into pleasure. Luise phones the battery empty, I read in old advertising leaflets.
We were never once in the fresh air, we determine before falling asleep again. We do not feel fit and exhausted. But somehow bad. But not bad-bad, but wonderful, sweet, almost a bit evil as after a border crossing. What we did was certainly forbidden, but? we do not regret anything.
