Black Hole. The Weekend Edition

Most Friday afternoons I have three million (slight exaggeration) plans for the weekend and am pretty confident that they'll all fit in, because, you know, it's a whole weekend. Somehow, "weekend" seems like this endless time unit containing way more than just 48 hours. 

By Saturday evening, I often realise that some of those projects might not get done, but, hey, there's still Sunday (with its 50 or so supposed hours...). By Sunday afternoon, I realise that I might have been a little too ambitious again, but, hey, it has been a good weekend all the same and I got a lot of things done. In fact, a whole lot. Case in point: this past weekend: Saturday: made a smoothie for breakfast,  read Friday's newspaper, went grocery shopping, did laundry, had a massage followed by lunch and coffee with a friend, cleared out invoices, insurance policies and other files, mended some beach towels, made peanut and almond butter, polished silver necklaces, watched a film on Netflix. Saturday: made a smoothie again, baked a cake, cooked lunch, did some more laundry, went to the pool for a quick swim, cleared out some more stuff, watched YouTube and Instagram Stories, wrote this blogpost, edited a film on iMovie for a work project and read a magazine. Not that bad and unproductive, but still, I missed at least 20 extra hours I had mistakenly counted into my weekend-calculations. Sounds familiar?