Why the weekend should last seven days

This weekend has been the kind that you only seem to wish for, when your mind seems overloaded with academic nonsense and the road leading to your exams seems unaturally long. And yet - Friday came, the sun was shining and a few days off just seemed.. necessary.



Image walking down the street; the scent of flowers mixes with that of the dry road, you close your eyes and the sun makes yellow dots dance behind your eyelids. And it's all just so damn allright you don't know where to jump, dance, run or go. So I went everywhere. To a part of the city I rarely visit, to giggle and spend money on beer far too expensive for my taste - but just perfect there and then. I danced in the streets and I ate cookies in the night. I went to the park to eat strawberries, and I drank wine until our blankets couldn't keep out more of the chill of the night sneaking up on us. And I've met up with a lot of people - fantastic people, funny people, people I've missed and people I see every day. And, and, oooh!

It's just been so damned good I wish I could put it all into a little jar, and look at it and smell it and laugh at it all through the week. Sort of.