A Weekend in the Life

There’s simply something magical in getting a sneak peek into someone else’s life.

I’ve always loved “day in the life” stories—those intimate snapshots of everyday routines that somehow feel both utterly mundane and deeply aspirational. Whether it’s a blog post, a magazine feature, a YouTube vlog, or SL’s much-loved Perfect Weekend series, I will consume it religiously. There’s simply something magical in getting a sneak peek into someone else’s life. Lately, I’ve caught myself wondering: how do I spend my own days?

Friday evening

On Friday evenings, I lace up my sneakers and head out for a long podcast walk. Lately I’m alternating between How to Fail with Elizabeth Day, Travel Secrets with Tanya Rose, Second Life, and Move with Heart. I’ve also just discovered The Mother Daze—and what a treat it is.

Working from home blurs the line between weekdays and weekends—especially since I often log a few extra hours on Saturdays or Sundays—but I do my best to switch off once the week winds down. Evenings like these are my little ritual to mark the transition into weekend mode.

I go out quite rarely nowadays, but if I do, it’s usually for dinner with my girlfriends. Otherwise Fredrik and I typically order takeout. Last Friday we had Indian: butter chicken and the most delicious (but way too spicy for me) biryani.

Then we usually watch something. We just finished You. I liked but didn’t love it, I thought the absence of Sera Gamble was noticeable. Next on my to-watch list is Your Friends and Neighbours, the second season of The Last of Us and The Last Anniversary (I have just finished listening to a book and quite excited to see it on screen). It’s an incredibly unpopular opinion but I truly like some adaptations a lot more than the originals. For example, the second season of You to my taste was a lot better than the book.

Saturday

I have always been an early riser and pregnancy made me even more so. I wake up around 6 am and have a cup of coffee while writing morning pages. I have not been the most consistent with the practice lately so it’s nice to easy back into it.

Then I work on my novel. I aim to write 300 words in the mornings. It’s not a lot but is doable and that’s all that matters. If I can write more, it’s amazing, if not — I get a satisfaction of completing a target, albeit small. The process has gotten much easier when I realised I am not the best at hitting huge targets. Perhaps I will do 1000 words of summer but I don’t have much faith in myself in this regard. The goal would be to finish the book before Bean is born but we will see. Writing it is one thing — editing is another.

Before pregnancy, I used to go to hot yoga, but now I heated rooms aren’t allowed. I’ve tried a few prenatal classes, but nothing has clicked yet, so I’ve settled into home workouts—usually a gentle yoga flow or a pilates routine that keeps me grounded and supple. I like Melissa Wood Health, Lia Bartha, Pregnancy and Postpartum TV. I’ve been flirting with the idea of buying a treadmill, but our old parquet floors groan ominously, and I’d hate to disturb our downstairs neighbours with the constant thumps.

There is the most wonderful farmer’s market on a square next to my apartment, and I love starting my Saturdays there. It’s full of local produce, wild flowers and fresh pastries. I usually meet up with a girlfriend for coffee and a quick weekly shop: eggs, veggies, meats, lion’s mane kimchi if I am feeling adventurous. It’s the perfect way to gather inspiration for meals I’d like to cook.

I cook almost every day, but on Saturdays I like to treat us to something a bit more indulgent. The weather is still slightly chilly so I am really trying to get use of my oven before the summer comes. This past weekend, I roasted a whole cauliflower under a spice rub, drizzled it with lemon–tahini sauce, and served it alongside crisp, golden potatoes tossed in rosemary and sea salt.

While dinner simmers or bakes, I always settle in with an audiobook. I have just finished, as mentioned, The Last anniversary by Liane Moriarty and about to start The Sicilian Inheritance by Jo Plazza. I’m especially excited for this one: family secrets, Italian settings, what else do you really need.

Sunday

Not many places are open at this hour but I usually manage to find something that sells coffee. I listen to a podcast while walking and then take a few minutes to sit on a bench without my headphones and listen to the birds, a kind of meditation since I can never commit to a real practice. Sometimes I take a notebook with me and manage 300 words there, but to be honest nowadays I prefer typing to handwriting. Then I go to the bakery and buy a baguette or some pastries.

Sunday breakfast is my chance to get a little extravagant: fluffy pancakes dripping in maple syrup and dotted with blueberries, golden waffles dusted with powdered sugar, savory eggs en cocotte baked with crème fraîche and chives or spicy shakshuka bubbling in its skillet. Fredrik is big on oatmeal so it’s not every day I get to feed him something lovely, not that there is anything wrong with oatmeal.

After breakfast, I catch up on newsletters and news. My favourite newsletters at the moment are Morning Person, Books + Bits and In Pursuit of Clean Countertops. I also have a Financial Times subscription and absolutely adore their How to spend it section. It’s a deliciously hedonistic ritual to pretend I have an unlimited amount of money: this superyacht or that five-star villa?

Mid-morning, I cozy up with a good novel. I’m usually juggling several books at once—there’s a permanent stack by my bedside. Right now I’m dipping into Untamed by Glennon Doyle, Agatha Christie by Lucy Worsley, and Losing Eden by Lucy Jones. The Vacationers by Emma Straub is on hold for our upcoming getaway, and Magpie by Elizabeth Day keeps calling me back with its clever prose. I am actually on a mission to read everything Elizabeth Day ever written.

I’ll often spend part of Sunday baking, though Fredrik’s healthier-eating ethos means I don’t get to indulge as often as I’d like. Last week, I baked a strawberry-rhubarb galette—the perfect balance of sweet, sour, and just-tangy enough. The house smelled incredible for hours.

As afternoon fades into evening, I switch gears to wind down. I’d normally enjoy a piping-hot bath, but that’s off-limits right now, so I take a long, slightly steamy everything shower instead. It’s my small ritual of self-care before the week ramps up.

After the shower, I usually make a cup of peppermint tea and sit with my journal. I jot down a few things I’m grateful for—tiny victories, moments of joy and appreciation—and sketch out a rough plan for the week: writing goals, work projects, recipes to try, things to buy, etc. I am taking Fredrik to Mallorca for his birthday next week, and it might be our last trip for a while, so I’ve been spending my evenings obsessively planning every aspect of it: where we will stay, what we will eat, etc. I even booked a couple of restaurants IN ADVANCE (and still was too late to book El Camino, even for lunch). I worry I put too much pressure on the trip but at the same time immensely enjoy the planning faze of it, if it makes sense.

My pregnancy insomnia is almost gone at this point, so I fall asleep like a baby.

It’s almost Friday!

Love,

Alena