The evolution of my Weekends

Today is Friday and I sadly didn’t experience that ‘Friday feeling’, and I haven’t for quite some time now. Mainly because I haven’t had a ‘proper’ (9am-3pm Monday to friday) timetable since my school days (and it’s been nearly 5 years since I left those behind… woah.) Back in those days I used to love Fridays, it meant the end of the school-week, we were another week closer to half-term/summer holidays/leaving all together and it was more importantly time for the weekend. Off we’d all go down to Redhill park (me dressed in my Juicy Couture tracksuits) for some cheeky WKD’s and thinking we were the dogs bollocks because it was obviously SO cool to get drunk in a park (it only took one small bottle) and absolute bonus; it turned our tongues blue! Lovely! Life couldn’t get any better! If we were being really daring we’d go down to the town centre and wonder around there… we were crazy! And why I never got an Asbo is beyond me.

Before the exciting underage-drinking-down-the-park-and-wishing-I-was-Paris-Hilton days when I was just a young nipper the weekends were literally the best thing ever. I’d wake up on Saturday and watch SM:Tv. Oh yes, every week I’d ring up and try to get onto ‘Wonky Donkey’ I’d never have the answer and I’d never get through but that wouldn’t stop me from ringing in again next week! I’d laugh away at Chums and basically just love life with Ant, Dec and Cat. That’s what Saturday mornings were all about, and even better was that I had the exact same tv that they had on the opening credits. I was too cool. It would also normally involve a trip to the park (minus the Wkd, I was only about 7) or seeing the family. And also probs see my Grandad who would give me a kitkat and a fiver without fail. He was a true babe. Then if I was lucky I’d have a party to go to. I’d wack my snazzy party frock on, munch on some jelly and ice-cream, chase some boys, pass the parcel around, get super hyper on lots of sweets and fizzy drinks, and then be totally zonked out by about 8. Man, those weekends were insane!

After the school days were the college ones and those weekends were always 'interesting'. I wasn’t old enough to legally go out but I had the ID to pretend I was. I kind of miss waiting in queue wondering if they’d fall for my ID and think I really was my next door neighbour’s cousin, it was a lot more fun that knowing you’d definitely be allowed in! And even if you didn’t get in somewhere, you could always count on Bliss to let you in, ID or no ID! I spent many a drunken Friday and Saturday night there, and actually haven’t been back since turning 18. I think these were my craziest of weekends, I didn’t work Sundays so those were spent in bed watching t4 and then I’d go into college and have English first thing on the Monday morning, I was regularly still slightly under the influence and the stories I had to tell were incredible, well either that or I wouldn’t remember a thing!... and as you can see from the picture my English skills weren't affected by my routinely weekend alcoholic intake at all...

Nowadays my Uni week only consists of Mondays and Tuesdays (I am 100% not complaining) so this has resulted in Tuesday becoming my new Friday and "Tuesday feeling" just doesn't work really. I do actually quite miss having that “Friday feeling” knowing you’d ‘slaved’ (not sure if I’d call SATs or GCSEs slaving away anymore, but it sure as hell felt that way at the time) away all week. I’d damn well earned that naughty Wkd down the park. Nowadays though I’ve become so accustomed to the student way of life, waking up whenever (often with a stinking hangover), watch some trashy daytime tv (I personally love it), go shopping thanks to the student overdraft, go out and party, and then back to waking up. It’s like a vicious circle, apart from it isn’t vicious, its effing lovely. Possibly the greatest circle ever! My whole week has become a weekend.

Last weekend (the actual weekend, Saturday) I awoke from my pit feeling a little worse for wear (rose wine is just too tempting even though I know I’ll regret it the following morning, and yes I have upgraded from a bottle of Wkd to a glass of rose now, nothing but class me!) “What are you going to do when you finish uni Em? Have you started applying for jobs?” there was no “Good morning Em, how are you, would you like me to make you a nice grease-filled cooked breakfast to ease the pain of your hangover?” Oh no it was *bang* back to reality, yeah great thanks for that dad, my little student bubble that I have happily been living/floating around in for the last 3 years is reaching its end and my parents aren’t going to let me forget it. “I don’t know. Where’s the paracetamol?” I replied. How on earth am I going to go from this ideal way of life to fulltime 9-5 work, having to pay bills, rent and other grown up stuff like TAX? Shudder. It makes me feel nauseous. The day my mum and dad start asking for rent will be a bad one (it’ll also the day I move to my Nan’s!) Having said that though, give me the right job and I’m all over it *hint*hint* HEAT!

I apologise if this hasn't made much sense, I’ve been sipping on rose whilst writing this (it helps get my creative juices flowing/I way craved alcohol/I've been waiting for everyone else to get ready and was bored) but now I’m off to carry on with the rose seeing as everyone else is finally ready (about time jeez I've written a whole blog) and enjoy what time I have left in my own little-easy-student-my-whole-life-is-one-big-weekend kinda world. I plan to party hard… and no doubt pay for it tomorrow. Yay! xo