It really doesn’t seem to make too much sense when you get to Saturday afternoon and you feel like screaming, “Have fun dammit!” Especially if you’re saying it to yourself.
Whipping yourself up into a psychotic froth in order to do fun or relaxing things is maybe just an eensy weeny bit counterintuitive, no?
A family weekend of not getting out bed sounds like a nice thing. Way less expensive, too.
More “My Wife Just Said…”
The fun doesn’t have to stop here.
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