I love the weekend. I love the fact that I can do what I want, when I want, and with who I want, and nothing more is expected of me. I love knowing that I don’t have to set my alarm for stupid o’clock, and I don’t even have to get dressed if I don’t want to.
Of course, I do. And I am generally up relatively early – years of starting work at the crack of dawn has imprinted itself well and truly onto my internal clock, and I am rarely out of bed any later than 7.00am.
I love my early rises though, when the house is silent and I can curl up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book, the curtains wide open so I can watch daylight emerge from the velvety folds of night.
I appreciate my weekend all the more if I have no plans, no commitments, and nobody expects anything of me except to hide away in my home and hibernate.
Books, tea, social media, and a good film are all that I need to keep me happy at the weekend.