You just have to lie in bed staring at the sky, thinking random thoughts on a Saturday morning. Breakfast should be a generous helping of everything nice and warm – waffles and blueberry jam, bacon and French toast with a strong cup of coffee. Once all that food and caffeine has been consumed, it’s time to slip onto the couch, switch on the TV and watch a slow and quiet movie about a group of random men who visit their favourite river for the last time. They splash through small rapids, camp in the woods, fish in the river and talk about everything under the sun while a sweet, soft sleep makes you miss a part of the conversation. You wake up and look out to see a slowly graying afternoon, still and calm outside the window. The movie would have gone too far for you to follow the story, but the lovely music that the little boy is playing on his banjo is enough to keep you on the channel. Towards late noon, your socks and comfortable cotton clothes still on, shuffle to the kitchen and take out some noodles that requires the least effort to cook. Warm water and three minutes. You are back on the couch, watching something inconsequential again. Late afternoon draws you to the computer and a two-hour long conversation with a good friend about life and love. At six, you need to get some of the wonderfully mild spring air, so put on the simplest clothes and walking shoes. Stroll down the road, looking at the river shine and shimmer a honey-gold in the weak evening sun. The walk should take you to the small local watering hole and grilled meat place. Warm and smelling of the gentle spices used in the kitchen, the place will welcome you with open arms, smiling faces and glittery glass. You should ask for your favourite grilled seafood dish and while it gets done, find yourself sitting alone at the bar. In a tastefully done-up bar, there is always enough to keep you occupied for a long time. Sipping your drink out of a salt-rimmed glass, watch the colours of the bottles, the shades of the liquids and of course, the bartender. At peak hours it is pleasing to watch him or her hurry about, picking up tinkling, shiny glasses, open bottles, pour out eye-measurements of all kinds of alcohol, mix, shake, stir and serve with smiles and casual talk while you sit in absolute silence, not moving, just sitting and sipping. It always helps to smile at the people on the other side, for, all said, you are sharing a bit of their space, their smiles and their salt-rimmed fancy glass with a slice of very stylish looking lime. Walk back in the now-descended early night with your seafood dinner in a fish-shaped paper bag.
Sunday mornings that are sunny shouldn’t be wasted. So you shouldn’t lose a minute to get into a train and nurse the silent fun of being by yourself that began on Saturday. Go to the Fine Arts Museum and spend four hours walking about the huge halls and endless galleries and walk out, dipped in the colours and riculously soaked in the lines and curves. Don’t forget your late lunch at the museum café, fluttering with pigeons and sparrows that love the bits of your cheese pizza that make them sit by your feet like loving cats. Museums bookshops are insanely expensive, but have some of the most irressitible little things one could want for no real reason at all. It doesn't hurt to entertain such whims at times. Spring-flowery glass coasters, for instance. Or magnets with pictures of indifferent cats on them. All dropped casually into a shiny bag for you carry back proudly.
Find your train and return home in the fading light, filled with the silence and the noise sprinkled all over it.

Sometimes you have to lose yourself before you find anything.