I have this idea of the essence of Saturday embedded somewhere in my head. It seems the further I stray from that idea, the more I enjoy the day. I always think I'm going to get some work done, and I never quite get around to it.

That was the plan again when today started. I barely made a dent in this week's to-do list, so I knew exactly what I needed to do. I wasn't even going to shave, until I thought I might have a chance to see Aiden today. No reason to scare the baby, is there?

Anyway, David and I spent most of the afternoon hanging out at his house, watching the game (and the baby). I didn't get the check record or cost reports done, or the bank statement reconciled. I'm one day further behind on my filing. But I don't care, because this is what a Saturday should be, no matter what ideal image I have in my mind.

Saturday is almost always the best day of the week, no matter how I spend it. If I actually did what I set out to do on a Saturday, it couldn't be any more satisfying than playing it by ear and taking advantage of the current to drift in a different direction.