Monday morning comes along almost every seven days or so and the workweek looms ahead. Five. Long. Days. Standing at the end, however, is Saturday. Sweet, unencumbered, unscheduled Saturday. A day to sleep in. A day of freedom. On Monday morning, I think about the evening and the chores I will accomplish. I will get things done that can’t get done during the workday. Errands. Home repairs. A need to clean the fridge. My list is long, but I figure I can knock a project or two out of the park. Monday evening rolls around and somehow at 7 pm my plans ...