My favourite part about the weekend (apart from not having to set an alarm because ALL THE LIE INS and if I hear that radar alarm one more time my brain will explode) is picking what to have for breakfast on a Saturday morning.
I don’t know why I pretend I’m going to make a choice.
I always have Scrambled eggs (cooked in the microwave cause I’m a genius) with buttered crumpets and a pint of black tea.
It is excellent. Thanks for saying so.
I watch Silent Witness whilst eating it and bed-partner is not allowed to interrupt (he eats Weetabix in case you were wondering cause he is some caveman who doesn’t see the necessity in brunch. I know. You’re right. I should dump him).
THEN comes the hump.
Yeah I know, the hump shouldn’t come so early in the weekend.
My main problem with the weekend is firstly that I think it should actually be three days long, because girl gotta have time to chain-watch Netflix, be hungover and do something cultural (I’m multi-dimensional don’t try to box me in).
And secondly that even though it’s two days, Sunday is basically a right-off cause you’re constantly looking at your watching knowing you’re one minute closer to Monday morning being back on the bus with that man who WILL NOT SHARE HIS SEAT. EXCUSE ME SIR MY BUTT ISN’T SO BIG THAT I SHOULD BE FALLING OFF THIS CHAIR.
And so with the (as we’ve discussed) very limited time that the weekend provides to me, every weekend I have the same struggle (I know this is a first world problem but so is having a disproportionate amount of couscous to pomegranate ratio in my salad and that’s definitely a legit grievance).
MY STRUGGLE IS: do I relax and rejuvenate ready for the next week so my editor doesn’t think I’m always hungover just cause my eye-bags betray me?
OR do I get out there and YOLO my life? Go to the imax and learn French and eat Thai food? But then have to return to work on Monday hooked to a cafetiere and having to pretend to Alan in Accounting that you have a toddler who won’t sleep so he stops asking you why you look like such shit.
This is a problem that has plagued my life for long enough and one that I think is stopping me living to my true potential.
SO kind folk of the internet – do tell me. Should we carpe diem every day and just take the hit come Monday? Or rest and relax and have a pit stop in this wild world that just wants to suck all of the energy out of us like a rabid dementor?