Retirement life has provided a surprise or two along the way. But we’re coping.

One of them, though, keeps nagging us.

It’s the notion that we no longer have to wait for “the weekend” to do whatever the heck we want.

Every now and then, my wife and I discuss our next excursion, whether it’s just in town, or to a nearby community, or even in the next state. We lapse without thinking into this former working-life mindset about waiting for the weekend.

Then it dawns on us: Hey, we don’t have to wait! We can go whenever we feel like it!

You fellow retirees know of what I am speaking, I’m sure.

I’m reminded of something my sister once told me. She and her husband also are retired. She told me how she chuckles when someone says to them, “Have a nice weekend.” She and her husband exchange knowing glances, she told me.

What do they know? It’s that every day is a weekend.

Now I get it.