The Mythical Creature Called an Ideal Week

Describe your ideal week.

They say unicorns don’t exist, but I believe an ideal week might just be rarer. Mine, at least, is like spotting a shooting star—you know it’s possible, but you can’t quite plan it.

In my imagination, it begins with me waking up early without bargaining with my alarm clock. “Early bird gets the worm,” they say, but I’m mostly hoping the early bird gets the Wi-Fi speed before the kids wake up. Office work is done on time, emails behave themselves, and deadlines don’t sprout extra heads like a Hydra.

Meanwhile, my children magically complete their homework without needing the motivational skills of a TED talk speaker. No debates, no negotiations, no “I’ll do it after five minutes” (which in child-language means “never”). Just smooth sailing. “Silence isn’t empty—it’s full of answers,” and in this case, full of finished assignments.

With that sorted, I find a slice of time to write—words flowing faster than coffee into my cup. My thoughts don’t wander to laundry piles or what to cook for dinner. Instead, they sit neatly in sentences, waiting to be strung together like pearls.

And when night arrives, I sink into bed, not with unfinished lists buzzing in my head, but with the peace of a good day. “Sleep is the best meditation,” Dalai Lama once said, and if I manage eight uninterrupted hours, I might just nominate myself for an award.

Of course, perfection isn’t promised, and imperfections often sneak in. But maybe that’s the charm—the beauty in the cracks, the laughter in the chaos.

Thought to ponder: What if the real ideal week isn’t about everything going right, but about finding joy even when it doesn’t? 🌙✨