Saturday Afternoon

Weekends are forever welcome, to those at work, and those not at work.

To look forward to weekends on Monday is too impatient; to look forward to weekends on Wednesday is relatively acceptable. I have most classes-six periods on Thursday, and even have to time to think of the coming weekend. However, once Thursday is over, my weekdays are almost over.

No worry about the next day's classes often ensures a sound sleep on Friday night. My ambition of sleeping till eight or nine Saturday morning is usually spoiled by the natural conscience in the mind. Waking up at half past six, I will have a feeling of failure. What if I can sleep till eight or nine like those who invest their weekend mornings to sleep! They know how to enjoy life, but I don't.
Poor me!

Anyhow, once woke up, just get up. It's no use lying in bed aspiring to fall asleep again.

Saturday morning is usually consumed by washing and cleaning. I do all this like a housewife, and don't regard them as chores. To some extent, I like doing so. A lot of friends have comment on my ability to be a competent housewife, and I haven't expressed my disgust. Housewife is not a derogative word. If one can be successful at work and the same successful as a housewife, no one will disrespect her. I can be no surer.

Though I will wake up not late in the morning, I tend to sleep a little more after lunch. This cannot be called a nap, because nap often suggests a short time.

I have enjoyed sleep after lunch today, though is has been slightly disturbed by a tiring dream. When I got up, it was about three. Washing face briefly, I sat down at the desk to read China Reading Weekly with the radio playing endless music. Sitting at the desk is comfortable, but half lying on the bed would be more comfortable? I asked myself. Just have a go. And then I lay on the bed till this copy was finished at about five.

There is a window on the west wall in my room. I like it so much, for it is so ready to let the afternoon sunshine in, bathing my humble room in brightness. In winter, it brings me warmth. Maybe, you will say following me that in summer, it brings hotness. Surely it does, but does it matter? I like sunshine, make it be warm or hot.
Oh, this Saturday afternoon!
A lazybone was reading on the bed. Music endlessly flowed.
Can somebody ask for more?
I will not！