Don’t you love a good oxymoron? Jumbo shrimp, organized chaos, government efficiency… you get the idea.

An oxymoronic gem I recently stumbled upon is leisure boredom. What fresh linguistic nonsense is this?

Researchers have this to say about our remarkable ability to muck up our leisure time: “Rather than using their free time healthily and constructively, individuals often view these periods of time as merely ‘killing time’ and encounter leisure boredom, or even use the time in destructive activities… having no constructive plans for free time leads to problems.”

Killer Weekend (We won’t be digging into the “destructive activities” part here because a tiki bar here in Palm Springs just revamped its cocktail menu, and I plan to combat my own leisure boredom this weekend with a drink[s] called Hawaiian Foam Party.)

We spend five days wishing for the weekend, then spend two days wondering what to do with ourselves. Yeah, you’re going to have to cut that out, Finite Frannie. You don’t have time to kill. You have a life to live. Which is why I’ve assembled 113 things you could do this weekend that don’t involve cleaning out the hallway closet.

(Feel free to listen to this song in the background as you peruse the list.)

Take an impromptu road trip with no hotel reservation.
Eat ice cream for dinner.
Host a dinner party that lasts until 2 a.m.
Jump into a cold lake.
Take a pottery class and produce a comically ugly bowl.
Book a last-minute flight somewhere interesting.
Visit someone you haven’t seen in years.
Go skinny-dipping under the stars.
Attend a lecture on something you know absolutely nothing about.
Get dressed up for no reason.
Take a sunrise hike and eat pancakes afterward.
Invite friends over for an extremely competitive game night. Have prizes.
Spend an afternoon at a spa… even if it’s just for a manicure and a long loiter.
Wander through a flea market and don’t buy a thing.
Learn three chords on a guitar.
Make out with someone on the couch like a teenager. (Maybe don’t makeout on the couch with a teenager.)
Eat every meal outside, somehow.
Go to a concert and lose your voice singing along.
Volunteer at an animal shelter and fall inconveniently in love with a three-legged dog.
Take a helicopter ride over your own city.
Have a conversation that gets unexpectedly deep.
Try rock climbing, surfing, or trapeze lessons.
Spend the afternoon in bed with someone you fancy.
Make a ridiculous cake from scratch.
Have a tea party with finger sandwiches.
Take a train to a town you’ve never visited.
Have a themed movie marathon from the comfort of your couch (80s rom coms/ Liam Neeson flicks/ Academy Award snubs…)
Sing karaoke badly yet enthusiastically.
Book a table at the fanciest restaurant in town and order dessert first—maybe even just dessert.
Spend a day photographing unusual things around town.
Take an afternoon nap without optimizing your REM cycles.
Cook an elaborate meal (or just a dish) from a country you’ve never visited.
Rent a convertible and drive somewhere beautiful with the top down, even if it’s just to CVS.
Spend an entire afternoon reading a novel in a hammock.
Take a hot-air balloon ride at sunrise.
Make your favorite dinner from when you were a kid.
Make a kid.
Throw an impromptu barbecue for the neighbors.
Visit a museum and linger in front of a single painting.
Buy a cheap disposable camera and document the weekend like it’s 1997.
Perform a random act of kindness.
Have a long, boozy lunch with old friends.
Take a sailing lesson despite knowing absolutely nothing about sailing.
Say yes to an invitation you’d normally decline.
Watch the sunrise after staying up all night talking.
Spend the day wandering around a city with no itinerary.
Try an outrageously expensive tasting menu.
Take a spontaneous day trip to the ocean/ closest body of water to you.
Learn to make homemade pasta and cover your kitchen in flour.
Tell someone you’re in love with them.
Go to a comedy club and laugh until your face hurts.
Rent a cabin in the woods and turn off your phone.
Eat an outrageous brunch without counting a single macro.
Take a dance lesson in a style that makes you deeply uncomfortable.
Go horseback riding.
Start writing a terrible novel, purely for the joy of it.
Spend a Saturday helping someone who could really use a hand.
Drive somewhere unfamiliar just to see what’s there.
Try a new restaurant without reading a single review.
Take a risk that could result in rejection.
Book an overnight stay in a hotel in your own city.
Go to an estate sale and invent elaborate backstories for the deceased.
Sit at a café and people watch.
Make a playlist of songs from your teenage years and dance around the kitchen.
Go wine tasting and pretend you can detect notes of leather and pencil shavings.
Take a cooking class with a complete stranger.
Spend hours doing something you love and completely lose track of time.
Visit a botanical garden and learn the names of five plants.
Fly somewhere just to see an old friend for 24 hours.
Rent a kayak and explore a lake or river.
Start and finish a puzzle.
Use the good dishes and serve takeout on it.
Take yourself on a proper date, complete with flowers.
Go to a minor-league baseball game and become wildly invested in the outcome.
Buy tickets to the opera, even if you have no idea what’s going on.
Make breakfast for dinner and eat it by candlelight.
Attend a local festival celebrating something absurdly specific.
Spend a day exploring bookstores and buying books you have no intention of reading immediately.
Take a scenic drive to watch the sunset from somewhere new.
Pull out old photos and archives and take a walk down memory lane.
Go stargazing somewhere with almost no light pollution.
Learn how to throw an axe, blow glass, or make cheese.
Call an old friend and talk for two hours instead of texting for two minutes.
Take a spontaneous ferry ride just to see what’s on the other side.
Host a themed dinner party and insist everyone arrives in costume.
Spend a day doing all the touristy things in your hometown you’ve never bothered to try.
Buy a fabulous outfit at a thrift store and wear it somewhere completely inappropriate.
Take a guided ghost tour and pretend to believe every word.
Go to a farmers market and build an entire dinner around one vegetable.
Attend a concert by an artist you’ve never heard of.
Spend the afternoon teaching a kid something you’re good at (maybe not poker).
Hire a private chef for a dinner with your closest friends.
Make a bonfire and tell embarrassing stories from your youth.
Go bowling and take the competition entirely too seriously.
Sign up for an improv class and willingly make a fool of yourself.
Take a ferry, train, or bus somewhere simply because you’ve never been.
Watch a movie at a drive-in theater.
Visit a retirement home and ask someone about the wildest thing they did in their twenties.
Plan a surprise adventure for someone you love.
Go on a food crawl and eat one course at five different restaurants.
Plant a tree, a garden, or something wildly impractical that may or may not survive.
Walk in the rain without worrying about your hair.
Go on a blind date set up by a friend with questionable judgment.
Spend an entire day doing things you loved when you were ten.
Take a photography class and learn to make ordinary things look extraordinary.
Rent a ridiculous sports car for the day.
Visit a place of worship from a tradition you know little about, respectfully and with curiosity.
Organize a neighborhood potluck with people you’ve only ever waved at.
Take an art class where wine is served and artistic talent is optional.
Try something you’ve always claimed you’re “not the type of person” to do.
Write a love letter, seal it with a kiss, and put it in the mail.
Spend a whole weekend saying yes to anything legal, reasonably safe, and remotely interesting.
Have a picnic in a cemetery and contemplate your remaining Mondays.