one life to live, but we're doing it wrong

Some Saturdays you wake up curled up with a fuzzy lunchbox of a cat instead of a cute boy and that's ok, except you look at your bloggity and wonder wtf happened to the rest of the week? How did we rocketship from last Saturday morning to this Saturday morning and what did we do inbetween besides eat sleep drink work go through the motions? Is there anything that happened that could be considered an anecdote worthy of your obituary?

(I mean, besides eating your weight in meat at Korean BBQ on Thursday & dying from beef-clogged arteries.)

I'm reviewing the week in facebook and I've got friends who are doing more or less than I, but what kind of standard for judgement is that? Shouldn't this be the only measure? If I can wake up on Saturday morning, either with or without a cat, either with or without a cute boy, and say to myself- "what did I do this week that makes me glad to be alive?"