Inpursuitof

Ah the weekend. That beautiful manna that feeds the soul and rejuvenates after the long struggle through the week. On a Monday morning, those five days seem insurmountable, but come 1pm Wednesday you’re half way through Hump Day and coasting your way towards that glorious goal.

Weekends are unequivocally too short. But the minute one arrives it’s all-hands-on-deck to wring every last second out of it. There’s a beautiful sense of joy about reaching the end of the week. I don’t know if it’s just because I’m in a job that I’m not passionate about, but I don’t love the working week. Give me a Friday night or a Sunday afternoon, though, and I’m a happy pig.

I read something the other day that the biggest workplace lie isn’t how many videos of puppies falling into their water you watch, but what you did at the weekend. Apparently weekend bravado is rife, with stories of bungee-jumping and day trips to the Maldives, while weekends are actually full of washing up and hangovers. There are so many amazing things to do with your days off that I can’t understand why you would lie about it. So you spent a day hoovering and running around after the kids, or with the duvet pulled up to your eyebrows with twitchy-foot trying not to throw up. It’s about what you make of it, not what someone else thinks of how you spent it.

Revel in your weekend, don’t spend it worried about what you’re going to tell the folks at work on Monday. That’s just a waste.

1) A hot cornish pasty to a homeless guy who told us where Subway was

2) Amber, when she picked up the bass

3) A man on the Barclays Bike Hire stand