A weekend of awesomeness. And mojitos.

I have been wildly excited about this Bank Holiday weekend for – ooh, actually only about a week, because I can’t really think very far ahead.  But, nonetheless, I have been very excited.  A whole weekend with nothing planned, nothing to do, no expectations.  An opportunity to do all those satisfying jobs I never get chance to do, like re-organising my cellar.  And all those things I don’t really want to do but will feel better once they’re done, like hoovering and tidying my bedroom.  And lots and lots of fun things, like sewing and watching Dr Who.  57 hours all to myself!

Except, waking up this morning to the beautiful sunshine (on a bank holiday weekend! I know! It never happens…) and a facebook feed full of people doing fun things with their friends and family, and the sense that there should be a barbecue or trip to the seaside planned somewhere, I felt slightly regretful, and slightly lonely.  This is probably not helped by being ill on Thursday night and spending all day in bed, watching Dr Who and dozing (I slept through most of at least one episode.  There was a giant cyberman in Victorian London, with a woman inside its head, and a man who thought he was the doctor but wasn’t.  Possibly best that I missed most of it).  I quite like my own company, and time to myself, but perhaps there’s a limit to how much time I need.

So I’ve made a plan.  I’ve made an hour-by-hour calendar of my weekend, because the alternative is actually doing useful things, and made a list of all the things I need to do, and I am squeezing in a trip to visit my best friend tomorrow. I’m going to stop overnight, and perhaps make her drink mojitos (I may have to smuggle a bottle of rum into the Quaker meeting I’m planning to go to on the way, which is probably *the* definition of classy), and see my godson and his brothers and have fun fun fun.  Today and Monday I will be running round my house wildly throwing things into the right places, taking down the cot in my bedroom which Small Girl barely slept in because she preferred sharing with me, finishing sewing Big Girl’s dress, sorting out Small Girl’s next-size-up clothes and then hoovering all the bits of carpet which I haven’t seen for about three months.  Productive *and* fun – it’s not a bad life.

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