It happens every time. I get four days off over Easter and look forward to the immensity of time that stretches before me and the endless possibilities that are contained therein – books to read, films to watch, novels to write. Four days later I find myself grimly typing into a keyboard having achieved precisely nothing.
Actually that is not strictly true. We never go away for Easter for two reasons: firstly, my husband works and secondly because Australian roads are full of people going away over Easter some of whom are driving long distances, and the number of accidents make one almost inclined to believe it is a national sport.
I had tickets to see a science show on Thursday night. I had been in two minds whether to go, but I am glad I did. It was a mix to science and comedy and while it was aimed at a wide audience, so not too difficult to follow, there was some great pieces, including a man who had set up a choose your own adventure game around the end of the universe, a lady who told the story of how Skylab helped to photograph the sun and a stand up comic/mathematician who measured Pi using pies.
All this excitement meant I did not hit bed until gone 11pm and was barely asleep before the alarm went at 5.30 am to take my husband to work. Then I went back to bed. Good Friday is officially the most boring day in WA. It is impossible to buy alcohol, so unless you have taken the precaution of stocking up, or you have a cunning plan to make a meal last five hours, it is impossible to settle in to any kind of drinking session.
For this reason, I have always drunk like a Viking on Good Friday, in protest at the nanny state, but not this year because I am not drinking right now. I think, though, that this abstinence caused a problem and although I was OK on Friday and Saturday, I have spent the last two days trying to not think about booze. It is odd. I do not want a drink, but some random hormones in my body have been screaming for 48 hours, like a group of frat boys at a party chanting, ‘scull, scull!’
I have avoided drinking, but it has come at a cost: one mini hot cross bun and a lemon tart. I did avoid all the chocolate eggs, even giving one that someone gave me to my husband on Saturday. Unfortuantley he responded by coming back from work on Sunday night with a little basket of chocolate eggs that someone had given him at work.
‘For you, darling,’ he said, ‘Just like you, I am going you a gift that somebody else did not want.’
It is great being married to a comedian.
I did manage to get the first draft down of a piece I have been wanting to write for a while. It is not right yet, though, and a second piece that I had planned to write did not get written because I am still wondering how to write it. Instead of sitting down and working it out at the keyboard, I have somehow convinced myself that it is going to materialize in my head.
I did read a book.
I also took the dogs for their walks and tried to mix up the parks and the routes to the parks. We met quite a few new dogs as a result, among them Piper the Beagle, Lolita the Shih tzu/Maltese cross and three tiny poodles wearing flashing lights around their necks who I shall only refer to as the disco dogs.
I also watched a good few films, probabaly too many. I am rewatching Whisky, Tango Foxtrot as I type this, which is a great film and I also saw Kubo and the Two Strings for the first time.
I did not write one word of my assignment. I am a bad student.
So maybe a little less than I should have done but not quite zero in the end and man, you should see those disco dogs go.