So it’s Saturday and your plans for a slow and dozy recovery from last night’s excesses have gone sadly awry thanks to your inability to sleep past half past eight in the morning. Even as the last week fades into the annex of your biography, your very being remains firmly in the clutches of a merciless master. But is doesn’t have to…
The weekend is a green and fertile pasture which you must defend from foreign invaders. Nurture it with fond memories of debaucherous nights out, fine feasts, and tales of silliness and it will carry you through the week like a chauffeured and sound-proofed limousine. Fill it with worries and it will sink into a sea of neglected memories like an over laden rowing boat.
Never be tempted to contaminate the weekend with left over work or the writing of reports. If it was not-important enough to do in your employer’s time, then it is certainly not important enough to do in your own time. Even the mighty creator (be that evolution or god) didn’t bother to finish everything he started. If he had, bankers would have been blessed with a moral compass and we would not be closing down public libraries to a soundtrack of champagne corks popping in
. Canary Wharf
Stay up late and sleep in. Only a few years ago you would have seen in the weekend by watching the sun rise over a can of Stella
. Ignore the callings of sleep and make up the thirty five hours that you have lost during the week. Just because you have promised your employer that you will be in the office at 9am on Monday morning, it doesn’t mean that you have to be productive. There is no greater pleasure than earning money whilst a hangover works its way out of your pores. Artois
Most importantly, stop reading this post and pick up the phone to your friends. The weekend has landed and you must board the train of hedonism and stick two fingers up to Monday morning.