Why I Shouldn’t Have a Boyfriend: Weekend Edition

To Good To shareSATURDAY:
Alarm goes off at 9am.

Luxuriate in having own schedule free to do as one pleases.

Ignore alarm for two more hours.

Get up and make a bucket of instant coffee, black. Return to bed with coffee, scroll through Facebook, Instagram and The Guardian Lifestyle section for an hour.

Get up and make something HIGH CARB-HIGH SUGAR for breakfast with another bucket of instant coffee, black. Possibly have some fruit. Nothing savoury at this point.

Return to bed, or to sofa where the wi-fi connection is better to read The Pool and watch Caroline Hirons or Ruth Crilly talk about skin care you can’t afford.

Put on some washing.

Note that it has gone noon and I haven’t spoken to a human person yet. Note that there is not a human person I would wish to speak to until cocktail hour.

Contemplate having a shower. Reject notion.

Hang out washing.

Decide it may be time for a shower. Don’t rush it though.

Spend at least an hour an a half face-masking, deep-conditioning, hair crop-harvesting and debating whether to use a treatment lotion or a mosturising lotion on self.

Do not dry hair.

Do not put on a bra.

Realise that it’s now about 5pm and lunch should have been had. Scrabble together something lunch based, preferably involving bread and cheese.

Go to the supermarket and use self-checkout to avoid talking to a human being.

Return home, have a sit down and another coffee. Think about slicing a Mars bar into five morsels.

Spend a few hours tidying up, reorganising something and Getting Things Done.

Realise hair is still wet. Take it out of bun until it is found to be irritating about 12 minutes later.

Feel tired and have a sit down. Look at some library books. Swear no more library books are to be taken out until these are all read and returned.

Feel guilty about not maximising the day and the free time. Think of all the people you could have seen or things you could have done.

Decide that getting on the tube during week days is enough, that you encounter enough tourists as it is, congratulate self on keeping this day free.

Make dinner. Ideally involving potatoes. And cheese.

Mentally argue back and forth that five potatoes is really more than a portion. Ague the cultural angle (=IRISH) pretty damn hard.

Eat and watch a DVD.

Half-way through DVD start actively completing things on the To Do list.

Realise it is gone eleven pm. It will be at least another 45 minutes until you are ready for bed. Debate whether or not to watch end of DVD.

Think both “Saturdays are made for staying up late” and “I could do with an early night. I don’t need to double cleanse my face tonight, do I? I should just sleep now. The DVD will keep.”

Spend 45 minutes getting ready for bed, do not watch end of DVD.

Get into bed and read something.

Remember a message that needs a reply. Reply to message.

Sleep.

SUNDAY:
Alarm goes off at 9am.

Ignore that for two more hours.

Get up and make a bucket of instant coffee, black. Return to bed with coffee, scroll through Facebook, Instagram and The Observer for an hour.

Get up and make something HIGH CARB-HIGH SUGAR for breakfast with another bucket of instant coffee, black. Possibly have some fruit. Nothing savoury at this point.

Return to bed, or to sofa where the wi-fi connection is better to watch New Girl on E4 and Marian Keyes on Youtube.

Contemplate that if you had a family, you would have been up for about 6 hours by that point.

Shudder.

Think about how a boyfriend would probably not appreciate the convent-like silence you demand at weekends and how you sleep like a hibernating bear with temper to match. Think about possibly adapting this attitude.

Reject that idea out of hand for being ridiculous.

Fetch another bucket of coffee.

Slowly ease into day with no unnecessary background noise. Be slightly resentful of the church bells which do not fall into the usual “ten minutes before a service” routine that you grew up with but instead PEAL TUNELESSLY FOR HOURS.

Shower, argue with self that a bra is necessary for company so you at least look less ironing-board-esque, resentfully blow-dry hair, assemble handbag for an outing.

Leave house with book and radio set to Capital.

Have social event with other people, probably couples. Enjoy self mightily. Have a few moments looking at couples thinking “hmm, that’s nice. That would be a nice way to spend a weekend with a person.”

Feel slightly sorry for self for five minutes.

Get over self when you realise that one of the couple is less connected to this group of people. Feel grateful that you’re not spending your precious free time with people who are not your beloved friends.

Wend homewards feeling slightly hollowed inside as Sunday brings about the blues.

Consider, and then reject, notion of making more potatoes for dinner.

Prepare for bed and the working week, get into bed with end of DVD.

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