It's great having three days off work. You can do what you want, when you want; you can have a lie in; you can go for a lunchtime pint or three; and you can generally pig out. Even taking into account demanding daughters and even more demanding children (you're off work, Dad? Can you look after Jack for half an hour? Which turns into three hours)
But now thoughts turn to work once more. And tomorrow will undoubtedly bring two thousand e-mails on my dilapitated computer and a couple of hundred voicemail messages on my phone.
Although it's nice to be off, there's something to be said for getting back to a routine. The commute to work in Scotland's capital city can be a pain in the backside, particularly if you use public transport. First Bus recently issued a new timetable for the number 86 from Dalkeith to Edinburgh. I suspect this piece of literature could be in line for the most original work of fiction at the Booker Awards later this year. Lothian Buses are more reliable i.e. they actually turn up at the time they say they will but travelling into Edinburgh involves crawling through Gilmerton and its twelve hundred bus stops. And if there happens to be an accident on the infamous city by-pass then most of the city simply grinds to a halt.
So, what to do on my last day of freedom? Being something of a masochist, I'll be at Tynecastle tonight to see a Velicka less Hearts try to put one over Rangers. An unlikely prospect but Hearts chances will be enhanced by the fact I'll be sticking a fiver on Rangers. Before then I may head for a rather lenghty pub lunch - anything to escape daytime television.
That's enough to drive you to drink.....hic!
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