Saturday 3 September 2016

A Free Weekend

Why is a free weekend different to the curse of a bank holiday? Why does one feel so much better than the other? It's a curious thing. Perhaps Bank Holidays are permanently soaked with that legacy of times gone by, those family day trips of stress supreme... --- No. There's no need to think about past bank holidays any more. This is a Saturday at the beginning of September, drowned under a day of perpetual rain, and enlivened by the return of a classic old game: 'Colonization'. No, not the remakes but the original game. It's still amazing, and has sucked up what would have been a whole day of writing, rather appallingly. Yes, 'Colonization' still has it, and is available once again. Ahhhhhh... 'Click herer to end turn.' Yes, I will, thank you.

It feels as if a weight has lifted after horrific Summer of news, a silly season so filled with venom that the upcoming US presidential elections are actually a light-hearted relief, despite the equally loathed candidates carrying the flags for the two main parties. Oh, how wonderful it would be for a third party to sweep the board and save (or would they?) us from the Trump or the Clinton. Ah, what a dream! It has to happen one day, when people realise they're allowed to vote for any of the listed candidates.

A free weekend is quite a luxury. The remaining part could be spent in any number of ways... More 'Colonization', in a complete surrender to the sleep deprived lack of creativity, Spanish practice, the podcast recording happening in a scant couple of hours, or even eating tea! Oh, what luxury it is to be free! Next weekend might be fiendishly more complicated and next month the inundation of degree work will begin, but now there is freedom. Freedom to play a game, write a blog post without pressure, and to read the book version of 'The Beiderbecke Trilogy'. What a strange feeling it is...

There shall be reading, and writing. Writing has come upon me all of a sudden, and very unfortunately since I left my idea pad at a student's house, and the impulse must be quenched by something other than yogurt and a small migraine. There shall be writing...

O.



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