Saturday morning arrived full of possibility. I knew this because I had made a list. Not just any list. A motivational list.
Laundry. Vacuum. Clean bathroom. Grocery shopping. Organize closet. Answer emails. Change sheets. Meal prep.
I looked at it. The list looked back. We immediately disliked each other.
“Okay,” I said. “I just need motivation.” So naturally, I made coffee. You can’t be productive without coffee. That’s science. Probably.
While drinking it, I decided I should sit on the couch for five minutes and mentally prepare for the day ahead.
Forty-three minutes later, I was watching a video about a raccoon that had learned how to open someone’s refrigerator.
This was important.
Eventually, guilt dragged me upright.
“Laundry!” I announced.
I gathered everything, carried it downstairs, put it beside the washing machine and felt an enormous sense of accomplishment.
Technically, I had moved laundry.
That deserved a break.
I got a snack.
While eating the snack, I remembered the closet.
I opened the closet door.
Something fell out.
I closed the closet door.
The closet and I silently agreed that neither of us was emotionally prepared for what was happening in there.
Next: vacuuming.
I plugged in the vacuum.
Then I noticed a plant looked thirsty.
While watering the plant, I noticed dust on the windowsill.
While wiping the windowsill, I found a hair elastic I’d been looking for since June.
This reminded me that I should organize the bathroom drawer.
Twelve minutes later, I was sitting on the bathroom floor holding an expired bottle of sunscreen and wondering why I owned seventeen half-used lip balms.
I returned to the living room.
The vacuum was still sitting there.
Waiting.
Judging.
“I KNOW.”
By now it was lunchtime.
Obviously, you can’t vacuum on an empty stomach.
After lunch, however, you shouldn’t immediately start cleaning because digestion is important.
So I rested.
At 2:37 p.m., I woke up from an accidental nap with one sock on and absolutely no memory of removing the other one.
Things were deteriorating.
I checked my list.
Nothing had been crossed off.
This seemed unnecessarily negative, so I added:
Make coffee.
Then crossed it off.
Progress.
I added:
Eat lunch.
Crossed that off too.
Suddenly I was crushing Saturday.
Feeling inspired, I added:
Water plant.
CHECK.
Find missing hair elastic.
CHECK.
Look at me.
Absolutely unstoppable.
At 4:15, I finally started the washing machine.
At 4:17, I rewarded myself with another snack.
At 5:00, I decided the grocery store could wait until Sunday.
At 5:30, I decided the bathroom wasn’t that dirty.
At 6:00, I unplugged the vacuum despite never actually using it.
That felt strangely final.
By evening, I was back on the couch in pajamas, eating something directly from the package while staring proudly at my revised list:
Make coffee.
Eat lunch.
Water plant.
Find hair elastic.
Start laundry.
Survive Saturday.
I crossed off the last one with tremendous satisfaction.
The original list was quietly thrown in the garbage.
And that is how I learned an important lesson:
Sometimes motivation doesn’t arrive.
Sometimes you have to lower the bar until it’s lying comfortably on the floor beside you.
And honestly?
That’s what weekends are for. 😂
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