Tahsin Khan

The Tyranny of 'Weekend Plans'


“What are your plans this weekend?”

Every time I sit in my barber's chair near the end of the week, I brace myself. As he starts trimming, I know this dread question is coming.

I feel a slight twinge of annoyance, not because I lack plans, but because I know my answer won't satisfy his unspoken expectations.

My mind races.

Should I explain that I'll be spending three hours in reflective journaling, evaluating if I've lived up to my values this week? Or consolidating insights from neglected books and newsletters? Should I mention the extended workout and sauna session, or the time I've set aside to refine my latest business idea?

But, I can see their eyes glazing over.

So, I find myself in a situation similar to ordering at Starbucks with a unique name. You know the drill - to avoid the hassle of explanations and misspellings, you give a simpler 'Starbucks name.'

In this case, my 'Starbucks name' for weekend plans is, "Just catching up on things."

I mumble my usual response and watch his reflection in the mirror, seeing a flicker of... something. Disappointment? Boredom?

Once again, I've failed to meet the arbitrary criteria for an 'exciting' weekend. He is usually expecting to hear about wild parties or Instagram-worthy adventures; something easily categorized as 'fun'.

What seems like a great conversation starter is a lazy question that fakes genuine interest and expects a limited range of responses.

Why does this innocent question about weekend plans often provoke irritation?

Probably because it's not just casual conversation. It feels like a social evaluation tool. It reflects a myopic value system that I don't subscribe to.

The Asker's Assumptions and Hidden Agenda

This innocent inquiry assumes:

  1. Weekends are solely for leisure and socializing. It often disregards those who use this time for personal growth, side hustles, or simply recharging.

  2. 'Plans' are concrete, easily explained activities that are socially acceptable and digestible (i.e., going to the cottage, attending a wedding, going to a ball game).

  3. A boundary between "work" and weekend, ignoring the blurred lines for entrepreneurs, creatives, or anyone pursuing projects outside the 9-to-5 grind.

What about those of us who don't fit into these neat little boxes? What about those of us who see weekends as opportunities for personal growth, reflection, or pursuing endeavours that don't translate well into small talk?

This inquiry frequently presumes that most of us spend our weekdays in "uninteresting" work purgatory, making weekends our only chance for a jailbreak into "interesting" territory. The asker unconsciously projects their work-life dichotomy onto you.

For those of us who don't compartmentalize our lives this way, this question becomes a frustrating social evaluation, with the asker gauging whether you're 'fun' or 'boring' based on arbitrary criteria.

And let's not forget the hidden motives. Often, the asker is just waiting to share their own 'exciting' plans.

A gym trainer once asked me about my weekend plans on a Thursday. As I fumbled a vague response, I saw her barely containing her excitement. She wanted a quick, uninteresting reply so she could share her news. Sure enough, she couldn't wait to tell me, "Oh, that's nice. I'm flying to Vancouver for the Metallica concert!" It's small talk masquerading as genuine interest.

This question puts me in an uncomfortable position. Do we lie to meet their expectations? Do we give a sanitized version of our true plans? Or do we bother being honest and see them lose interest?

The Answerer's Dilemma

So here I am, cornered by this question, feeling the pressure of societal expectations. What am I supposed to do?

Welcome to the Answerer's Dilemma.

Explaining my weekend plans is like trying to summarize the Marvel Cinematic Universe in a 30-second elevator ride. It's a futile exercise that does a disservice to the nuances of our lives.

First, the tedium...

For those with consistent weekend routines focused on personal growth, explaining our plans becomes as repetitive as my barber asking if I want "the usual."

Yes, I'm still journaling and contemplating on my Saturday mornings.

No, I haven't taken up skydiving.

There's a language barrier here, and it's not about vocabulary. How do you dense diverse, deeply personal and often intangible activities pursuits into small-talk-friendly nuggets. How do you explain that you're "working on yourself" without sounding like you've swallowed a self-help book?

In a world obsessed with productivity and visible achievements, how do you convey the value of simply... being? Of allowing your mind to wander, to make unexpected connections, to recharge?

"I'm planning to stare at the ceiling for a few hours and see what ideas pop up" isn't usually what the asker is expecting.

For me, weekends aren't an escape from the 'real world'. They're an integral part of my growth and self-discovery. My ideal weekend includes reflective journaling, diving into books and newsletters, an extended workout session doubling as moving meditation, writing and refining business ideas or creative projects.

"Working on myself" encompasses a myriad of activities that society might not deem interesting or worthwhile, but are important to my journey. They don't fit neatly into the "fun plans" box that the weekend question assumes.

So, when faced with the weekend question:

It's a delicate dance that requires balancing authenticity with social grace, depth with brevity, self-respect with respect for others' expectations.

Sometimes, I wish I could respond with, "I'm planning to exist intensely. How about you?"

Bridging the Gap: To Answer or Not to Answer?

We've established that this question is a social Pandora's box. But let's not get too dramatic - we're talking about weekend plans, not addressing a global crisis.

Still, it's worth examining the implications of this query:

  1. The Guilt Trip: Sometimes, when I'm deep into a personal project or enjoying a quiet weekend, this question makes me feel like I should be out there skydiving or something.

  2. The Connection Conundrum: Sometimes I'm eager to share my latest existential revelation or the fascinating book I'm reading. But most people asking about weekend plans aren't ready for a TED talk on the nature of consciousness. It's like bringing a philosophy textbook to a cocktail party.

  3. The Communication Breakdown: Maybe the problem isn't the question, but my answer. Perhaps I need to translate "I'm exploring the depths of my psyche" into "I'm doing some personal development stuff." It's not lying; it's social shorthand.

These responses highlight a clash between a society that values easily digestible experiences and those of us who find meaning in the nuanced, the abstract, the ongoing.

But, we're not social misfits for valuing introspection over Instagram-worthy adventures. We're just playing a different game, one where the scoreboard isn't visible to the casual observer.

Where does this leave us?

If you're asking about weekend plans, reflect on your motivations: Are you eager to share your own plans, genuinely curious about the other person's life, or using it to evaluate them?

Consider more engaging ways to connect.

"What's been on your mind lately?" or "What are you looking forward to?" could lead to more interesting conversations.

As for those of us on the receiving end, I started treating it as an invitation to overshare. I'll joke, "You asked, so now you're getting a TED talk on my latest existential crisis." Or, I'll try something like, "I'm embarking on an expedition into my psyche. Want to hear about it?"

The point is, we don't have to play by rules that don't serve us.

Last weekend, I unexpectedly beat my personal running record, wrote this essay, and had an emotional conversation with an old friend about her upcoming wedding challenges. None of this would fit neatly into a 'What are your plans?' response, but it was satisfying.

Ironically, I've found this dreaded question to be an excellent filter for meaningful connections.

Those rare individuals who show genuine interest in my 'boring' weekend plans become my most valued friends and collaborators. The question has become an unexpected litmus test for compatibility in my life.

Here's a challenge: For the next month, ban 'What are your plans?' from your vocabulary. Instead, use 'What are you looking forward to?' or 'What's been on your mind lately?'

You might end up in a conversation about the nature of existence, or learn too much about someone's sourdough starter. Either way, you're likely to have more authentic and engaging interactions.


Reflections

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