I’ve reached that stage where weekdays and weekends run into each other.

“What day is it?” I ask my husband.

“Unfortunately not the weekend,” he groans getting out of bed to get ready for work (He’s on the countdown towards retirement and cannot wait for that day he stops work).

Guess I shouldn’t be complaining about anything if I’m in a position to ask this question.

Thing is, I hear my parents ask it all the time. 🤣

When you don’t work (whether you must or not), time takes on a whole new different meaning.