IT’S great to have something exciting and enjoyable to look forward to. Unless it’s one of those much-anticipated events that end up being a huge letdown. Such as:
Ace, a Friday or Monday off. You make ambitious plans – a country walk, a pub lunch – then on Monday it’s pissing down, your bored kids are already trashing the house like deranged mules, and all you can think about is being behind with your work. End up hiding in a quiet part of the house and fire up the works laptop. Bank holiday fun at its best.
A posh meal out
There’s a swanky new Indian restaurant in town and you’ve been dead excited about going. Arrive at your table to find there’s a shitfaced hen do next to you. Order loads of poppadums then find you’ve overdone it and really have to force the (amazing) main courses down. It will all fade into insignificance when the extortionate bill arrives, making you feel sick as a dog. Speaking of which, pick up some Gaviscon after all that not-particularly-enjoyable overeating.
Going to the match
You haven’t been to see your Premier League team play in ages but you’ve spaffed a crippling amount of money on a ticket. Spend half the day stuck in traffic getting to the ground, then discover there’s a complete pisshead behind you who insists on giving a running commentary like he’s Gary f**king Lineker. Oh, and they were shit and lost 3-0. Wouldn’t be so bad, but they were only playing f**king Watford.
It’s been a long, grey winter, and spring hasn’t been much better, so that guarantees a blazing summer to put 1976 in the shade, right? Wrong. It’ll be mid-August before you finally admit summer is not happening as you wake up to more wind and rain. Still, that guarantees September and October will be the unseasonal Indian summer you’ve always dreamt of, right?
A weekend city break
You’ve made plans to see the sights, but there’s a nightclub next door and you’re still wide awake at 3am listening to fighting and tuneless choruses of Sweet Caroline when it spews its drunken contents onto the street. You’re knackered and can’t face another night like that, so check out a day early and bugger off home. You’re also still wondering why, out of all the cities you could have stayed in, you chose f**king Bristol.
The kids are staying with your parents and you’re anticipating an evening of torrid intercourse. However you’ve already buggered it up by eating too late and can’t possibly contemplate shagging until your dinner’s gone down. You bizarrely decide to do it on the floor and, once it’s quickly over, you experience the grim reality of age as you both struggle to get back up again. Becoming a sexless couple who just watch TV and eat biscuits suddenly looks quite fun.