I hate when people see your downtime as a challenge to get you up and going.
When I say,
"I'm not doing anything this weekend,"
that's not a f*cking request for someone to try and get me to do something. Granted, if I'm invited to something I would probably enjoy, I'll politely decline the invite and that'll be the end of it. But if I'm offered a chance to pluck swollen ticks off of livestock, I'll issue a firm rejection followed by an assault on the offender's throat with the chiseled end of a rusty crowbar. And that's usually the end of it as well. But sometimes, I'm rebutted with,
"You said you weren't doing anything."
That's the whole f*cking POINT. I don't want to do anything. Monday through Friday, for me, is spent doing things, many things, a lot of which I don't want to do but have to. The weekend is quite commonly the only bastion where I have the opportunity of being free of obligations. When I wake up on Saturday and Sunday, there are times where I want an itinerary as empty as a police precinct in Detroit. If 'nothing' is on my to-do list, then damn it, consider that list complete. I don't care if I'm asked to help drag disintegrating corpses from a swamp in mid July, or attend a party where I'd be able to squirt whipped cream on the smooth, supple perineums of high class strippers. When I say, "I'm not doing anything," I'm NOT doing anything.
As for the party with the strippers... yeah, I'd make time for that.
