Remember when you were a kid and Saturday came? For me it meant up early with cold cereal and cartoons. And not today's stilted animated crap or feel good, morally centered ones like Barney, Care Bears or Dora the Explorer, who's main goal is to sell merchandise and not entertain anyway. Nope! We're talking Looney Tunes with Bugs, Sylvester, Tweety, Porky Pig and my personal favorite Daffy Duck. This was a time where no one was overly concerned if it was damaging to the childhood psyche if Elmer Fudd blew Daffy's beak off repeatedly with a shotgun. But by 11:00 the TV was off and it was back to real life and chores.
Even as a child I was hemmed in by five days of (school) work ending in two days of (house) work. Not child labor violations, but my mom worked full-time so that meant us kids had to shoulder our share on the weekend.
Today is Saturday. I have been retired just under two weeks and this is my first real Saturday. But now Saturday feels very much like any random Wednesday or Thursday. No rush to get all the chores and errands done in the 48 hours allotted for such things. No to-dos. No pat agenda. No plans except to join some good friends at their pool this afternoon.
So this morning as I read the paper, Jim presented me with the retirees version of the days of the week. He said it would be helpful because I was still a rookie. Here you go:
Saturday, Sunday (these don't change because they were perfectly designed in the first place), Monsun, Tuesat, Wedunday, Thursatty and Friunday.
Okay, I'm off to Kohl's because I need new underwear and I'm going to see if they carry the "Days of the Week" retirement style panties. Then if I'm ever confused I can just do a quick check.