What is it with weekends? One minute you’re feeling the relief and the joy of a Friday evening, then you close your eyes, do a few chores, close your eyes again and suddenly it’s Sunday night and Monday looms up out of nowhere.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve said before, I quite like a Monday - typically it’s planning meetings and a retrospective, and half of it’s gone before most people are awake enough to be stressed with you. No, it’s Tuesdays you’ve got to watch out for; they’re the real office tricksters.
But anyway. Where was this weekend? Granted, I slept through a lot of Saturday thanks to my uncomfortable time with my eyes. And yes, of course, for me, church takes up a lot of time on a Sunday. It felt like a whirlwind today because I woke up late and had to spin to church in a cloud of toothpaste and raincoat. Nonetheless, there ought to be a lot more weekend left, I think.
It was my niece’s birthday, so we had a family celebration. I don’t quite understand why the conversation goes where it goes but I hid my face in a cushion again. I do not wish to know about some things. Meanwhile, my sister is still selling her JFK conspiracy book online, and I concluded that I would like to avoid spas, someone pejoratively called ‘Gypsy Keith’, and colonoscopies... at all costs, where possible.
I got home and went for a walk in the park. I wondered whether maybe the trees would help rest my eyes and bring the world back into a little focus.
It started raining so I stood under a tree, looking dodgy. Rain gently tickled the leaves and ran along the twigs and branches. Thick, clear droplets of water caught the light as they cohered into glistening spheres and teardrops, before dripping to the ground. There is something elegant about rain, I think - from its soothing sound to its gracious cascading journey into the earth, into the rivers, the seas, the clouds and then back to rain again. My friend Sammy pointed out to me the other day that every drop of water has always been here on the planet in one form or another. I made some smart comment about comets with ice, but she was right really. Ancient, unending, unbreakable rain. Beautiful.
Weekends are not nearly so long-lasting are they? They are fleeting. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: a world of four days on and three days off seems a much better idea to me. I’d take that in a heartbeat.
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