Productive Weekend

Saturday

I decided, somewhere between my coffee and my inbox, that I’m going to start working my extra weekend hours again. Every Saturday, for the next few months. I let a lot of them slip by recently because there was always something else that felt more important at the time, but one of my goals for 2026 is to get serious about my debt. The student loans are still there, a heavy shadow looming over my life, and the extra day comes with a reliable bonus. It’s only a half day, which makes it hard to argue against. So, for now, Saturday mornings belong to the office.

I worked until around 11:30 and then headed out to meet my wife at Costco. On the way, I passed that little boba shop I always notice and never stop at. It only has a handful of parking spots right in the middle of town, so I usually don’t even try. But this time, right as I was about to pass it, someone pulled out of a spot directly in front of the store. It felt like the universe making a small, very specific offer, so I took it.

I got us both drinks – Lychee green tea with boba – it was perfect.

Costco, on the other hand, was chaos. We like to joke about our “Costco dates,” but this one felt less like a date and more like a military operation. Saturday, middle of the day, packed to the walls. People circling for parking like vultures. We usually go on a weekday night, but this was the window we had, so we made it work.

We hadn’t done a proper stock-up since November, so the cart filled quickly. Bulk meat, some daily staples, everything we needed for the canning project we’ve been planning. The goal is to make a bunch of shelf stable meals for my wife’s cousin, who’s suddenly navigating life as a widow and single mom after a recent loss in the family. It felt good to have something practical to do, something that might make her days a little easier.

We ended up with enough food that we probably won’t need to go back until late summer. The Costco gift card from Christmas helped soften the total, and of course, I got a hot dog for the drive home. That part is non-negotiable.

The rest of the afternoon turned into what felt like a butcher shop simulator. We broke down all the meat into two-person portions, vacuum sealed everything, labeled it, and tried to make it all fit in the chest freezer. It barely did. I had to pull out three of our home-raised chickens just to make space. I roasted them and tucked them into the fridge for later, already planning ahead for broth and canned chicken.

By the time we were done, we were exhausted and sticky, with sore backs. We put together a simple happy hour at home. I made a charcuterie board (the lazy not-devilled eggs were particularly good!), she made mocktails, and we sat down and finished the gay hockey show. It felt quiet and earned. A good end to a full day.

Sunday

I got up early and started the canning.

We had picked up five rotisserie chickens the day before which I deboned for the freezer, so broth had been going overnight. I started moving things through the canners, settling into the rhythm of it. The process takes a while per batch, since things have to come up to pressure, cook at pressure for a while and then depressurize slowly (no exploding jars here!).

We bought a second, extra-large canner for this project, which I’m still learning. My wife took over reading the instructions and managing that one while I handled the cooking and prep. It felt like the only way to keep everything moving without making a mistake. There’s a certain point where adding one more new task just tips everything into chaos.

We made a lot. Chicken broth, burrito-in-a-jar, pork carnitas. More than I think either of us fully expected. By the end of the night, we still hadn’t finished processing everything. The kitchen just couldn’t hold it all at once. So we packed what we could into the fridge, and I made a plan to keep things going during the week while I’m working from home.

There’s still another whole pork shoulder waiting its turn.

At some point in the middle of all of that, I had a long phone call with a friend I haven’t talked to since my wedding. She’s a lawyer and always busy, the kind of person you don’t expect to get two uninterrupted hours with. But we did. We caught up on everything, or at least as much as you can fit into one conversation, and it felt easy in a way that made the time disappear.

By the end of the weekend, I felt… settled. Tired, but in a good way. I went to work, made some extra money, got a lot done that I’ve been putting off, spent real time with my wife, and reconnected with someone important to me.

If more weekends felt like this, I think I’d be pretty content.