With my wedding less than a month away now (holy crap!) I’ve discovered something curious. Now I’m some close approximation of a grown-up, I don’t really have many free weekends. Sometimes like last weekend, I’m off doing particularly fun things – as an early wedding present my good friend Nathan bought us tickets for the Roland Garros finals – and this weekend the reeling practice for the wedding should be a laugh, but it’s strange how full life becomes without really much effort at all. I really should be writing at the weekends on a regular basis, but the time just gets filled up with activities that certainly aren’t conducive to spending time in front of a computer while enough caffeine to kill a wake a dead rhino buzzes through my veins. Sometimes I’m even expected to act like a normal person with normal social skills too – so probably best I don’t write for a while before that as well, since a big session tends to leave me with the graces of a zombie that’s eaten too much brains.
My parents are notoriously difficult to pin down on weekends for months in advance and now I realise part of their problem I think! It is of course also the fact that sometimes they’re ‘busy’ when they don’t want to do something like trek into the city, but sometimes months go by with them not having a full free weekend to relax in and I suspect that’s how life will increasingly go for me once married life has me in it’s furry grip. As someone who likes nothing more than watching the rugby of an afternoon and sitting around drinking, this is something of a concern, but I seem to have struck the bargain with my beloved that will see me being allowed to watch lots and lots of the finest team sport around in the future. The fact that I might have to sit through every horrific celeb dancing competition is something I’ll just have to deal with, and at least the pain is softened by some very strokable pro dancers in skimpy dresses!
And anyway, how can I complain when I get to do things like watch Federer’s historic completion of the grand slam and bum around Paris drinking great coffee and eating some lovely food? Admittedly, also getting absolutely shafted over the price of beer (8 euros 60 for a pint in one bar, unfortunately we’d just ordered it by the litre too…) and not liking the kicking the exchange rate has given us (please say it’ll improve for the honeymoon in Sept…) but hey, I live in London so that sort of shock is short-lived! When the problems in my life are being moved to a crap desk for the two days a week I go to work and the summer getting a bit warm for writing in my study, I reckon I’ll live!