The Curious Beast That is a Weekend

So here's the thing.....

It's Friday night and you've survived another week in the hideous rat race that is corporate life. The cubicle has been left behind in a shower of sparks (this is not generally recommended Monday - Thursday on OH & S grounds but entirely OK on Fridays when frankly - who the hell cares if the carpet catches on fire?) as you accelerate out of the building bound for 48 hours of sheer unadulterated leisure (unless of course you are conducting an affair out of your relationship in which case it will be all adulterated I'm guessing). You decide that tonight, in direct contravention of social conventions worldwide that you will not go out tonight, and stop in at the Indian takeaway, liquor store for some wine, and convenience store for some dessert and go home to watch an episode or two of whatever TV show came out on DVD that week. You stay up late, mostly due to the sugar high from the wine and dessert, and look forward to a sleep in Saturday morning, ignoring the pleas from your exercise junkie friend to exercise on the weekend and run around a 50 hectare park at 4 a.m. Saturday morning ( who incidentally should be locked away for his own mental health)....

Saturday dawns (but naturally you decline to check it our for yourself and just accept that if the sun's come up when you wake up that the dawn did indeed happen) and you bound from bed - OK crawl in slow deliberate movements to the coffee - ready to face a day of running errands...after the sort of brunch that you never eat during the week and that will set off cholesterol alarms at the Heart Institute.... god bless the super grande el gigante breakfast of champions (and possible heart attack victims) that gets you set up for a day of grocery shopping, buying things you don't need (and never will) and driving to far flung parts of the city you live in to see dear and close friends where you will eat that will further trigger those already klaxon-like alarms at the Heart Institute...but you don't care because you have no timetable (other than the social opprobrium of turning up late for Uncle Carls' 80th birthday BBQ at the local RSL).... ah what a glorious thing is a Saturday!!

Then Sunday comes along, and if you are like half of Sydney, you head to Yum Cha in Chinatown..... there, if you are insane enough (and it's entirely possible most of us are stark raving bonkers), you arrive just as the crushing masses surge forward eager for their weekly fix of chicken's feet (I feel sorry for all those poor lame chickens in wheelchairs), eggplant/tofu (yum!), or pork buns (that I maintain look just like the pods in Alien/s....and I once ordered then using that name.....the Chinese waitress clearly was no pop culture addict and looked at me blankly).... or if you are like me, you turn up at 11 and have a brunch-type take on Yum Cha and are done in time to see a movie just after lunch..... of course somewhere in the middle of all the activity, you have to find time for that most sacred of weekend rituals.....The Nanna Nap...combine that with Saturday's Herald and you have the perfect afternoon....OK throw in some LindorBalls and you have the perfect afternoon..... right some Pinot Grigio, Lindor Balls, the Herald and nap and you have...well you get the idea....