Saturdays are, of course, fab; it being, for the majority of humans, the day after the workday of Friday. But how long does the reverie last for before imminent Sunday intrudes?
And, for how many of us, is Sunday (far from being a day of rest) a day of enthusiastic-I’m-so-ahead-of-myself planning for Monday and the rest of the working week. And, are we really ahead of ourselves?
No!
No – we’re not ahead of anything – because, if we didn’t do this essential-beyond-the-job-description-and-unpaid-for planning, the following week would not be worth living! Far from being ahead – we’re barely keeping up – we’re puffing and panting and battling against the pains in our chests – all in a futile attempt to reach a fictional ‘FINISH’ line!
Yes, on Sundays, many of us, recommit ourselves to our slave contracts. And, even if we do have an odd-sock* day into the bargain, it’s unlikely that the missing sock will give us any slack! Sunday is, and always will be, a workday!
Putting all thoughts of sock knitting aside, I wake up at 9am (ish), draw back a curtain, and allow the sun to float into my semi-conscious mind. It really is a day for getting out there, for zapping up the zest of the orange, and for being happy.
I get up. It’s 12.15pm!
Sure, I’ve had a bit (lot) of extra kip and the orange sun’s more lemon at the mo’, but there’s no way that all of the extra time in bed was wasted. I have, after all, courtesy of a laptop-binge brunch in bed (and a pop-up from The Daily Mail), just discovered that Love Island‘s Tommy is mere 20 and the beautiful Maura, 28. Surely this age gap is too big? Tommy will have second thoughts, won’t he? Is this another Love Island day, or have I already missed Episode 11? And does Maura really have Polyfilla** in her lips?
Some time after 2pm, I’m finally taking off! It’s Saturday and I’m about to have the trip of a lifetime to …
…. a graveyard in Assington!
This is a dream come true; I’ve had my distant eye focused on the place for weeks – the church steeple attempts to lure me off the straight and narrow (journey to work) on a daily basis. So far, thoughts of the boss berating me for lateness have won me over. But, it being a Saturday, the boss has lost his power (no, I haven’t lost a sock), and a DD supplanter*** is taking me (obviously against my will) to my graveyard utopia.
Here goes …
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2019
Please read about my Assington Adventure, in Jay Cool’s ‘Adventures of a Silly-Savvy Salopian’ series. And, if you can’t be bothered, then here’s a sneaky spoiler:
*Reference to the sock that released Dobby (character in Harry Potter) from his enslavement to the Malfoy family.
**Caution: DO NOT USE POLYFILLA EITHER IN OR ANYWHERE NEAR YOUR LIPS! If you have to, use a lip-liner, stick on some Blu-Tac and get out the lippy! (Don’t stick Blu-Tack onto your lips either – whether it is poisonous or not, I have no idea, but it will look really naff!) Alternatively, try some stick-on lips from a fancy-dress shop; or this wonderfully lippy t-shirt from Amazon (Disclaimer: Should you choose to purchase a t-shirt, via the image link below, I will receive a commission from Amazon at no extra cost to yourself):
***DD (Daredevil Dinah) is my loyal, if somewhat choked up and feeble, Dacia Sandero. DD’s supplanter is an ancient Honda Jazz (which I will disloyally have to admit is a much smoother operator than DD)! (Just in case you are reading this post on the assumption that I am advertising lingerie, then this DD rainbow collection is available on (yes, you guessed it) Amazon! Please buy the whole six-pack, because that is the only way you will get a Daredevil Dinah lookalike (she’s the blue one), and it is fairly expensive so I will receive a commission from a grateful supplier! Go on – you know you like variety!
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 