Succeeding at Saturday is going grocery shopping and not murdering anybody. Not even a tiny bit. My Saturday is therefore a success and I have earned the right to laze about tinkering with musics and watching science fiction for the remainder of the day.
Sometimes on a Saturday I like to look at my feet. Not intensely, just to make sure they’re still there, still pointing the right way, still own the requisite amount of toes and haven’t been wearing tap dancing shoes thinking I’m not paying attention. Sneaky things, feet.
Other times on a Saturday I like to write the most significant blog post the internet has ever seen. Or eat ice cream and spend the day in my pants.