Saturday fantasists dream of all the jobs that they’ll finally clear, on those long Saturday afternoons, after they return from that sports field somewhere at the other end of the country. And they stoically visit the DIY shop to buy pallet wood for trendy garden furniture. How hard can it be, a few boards, a little bit of sawing, sanding, drilling and you’re done. Slightly less stoically they unpack everything at home only to find that the garage is still crammed with old paper and, oh yeah, the bike has a flat tire. Right, pop those planks in the shed for a moment and then crack on. But first, the shopping – being a Saturday fantasist is thirsty work. By 19:00h on a Saturday though, everyone else has already been to the supermarket – and got the fresh bread, while you have to resort to the bake off at home variety. Ah, never mind. Back home our Saturday fantasist is completely knackered from their overly hectic Saturday, collapses into a heap on the sofa and decides: I’ll tackle that neat little garden set tomorrow.
Poor fantasist. Because apparently, APPARENTLY, no one thought to tell the Saturday fantasist that it’s a psychological trap. The ‘weekday thinkers’ know this only too well. They also happen to know that Saturday contains less hours than an ordinary weekday. Which hardly anyone else does, by the way. Except for weekday thinkers who have a list of jobs that need to be completed before Saturday. They have plenty of time to enjoy a coffee and read the newspaper on Saturday. Three newspapers. And to play sports. All before 11: 00h.
But this still leaves Sunday. Which I declare to be a paradise day. So that both the Saturday fantasists and the weekday thinkers can recuperate. Because before you blink an eye, it's Saturday again. Phew, glad next Saturday is still a week from now.
EN version: team effort with Lesley Gunn
