Aren't bank holidays weird? I haven't been a proper part of one for ages, because last May I was more or less unemployed and for the rest of the summer I was doing weird and irregular shifts working on the Big Brother website. In both cases I didn't really have a clue when the weekends were, so all bank holidays meant was that all my friends with normal jobs would bugger off and abandon me for three days.
For those who don't live in the UK, a bank holiday is a day when offices across the country (and banks) shut down and most of us get a day off. They usually fall on a Monday, so you get a long bank holiday weekend. This time, it being Easter, we have Friday and Monday off. In true British tradition, we have been provided with the kind of dreary, useless grey weather that makes you want to go to work.
What a waste. If it were sunny we'd all be out in the park, eating icecreams and burning our noses. That's a proper bank holiday. Sitting indoors squinting at my laptop is not what I had in mind.
I'm supposed to be going out tonight to celebrate this joyous annual occasion of having four days off in a row. I don't even feel like it. It's drizzling. Drizzling. To drink margaritas and wander giggling through Soho would feel wrong under these conditions. I feel I should be snuggling in front of a fire with a large man named Frank. Actually that sounds rather nice, but I don't even know a Frank.
In summary, I didn't know what the big deal was with bank holidays, and now I've truly experienced one, I know that they're bullshit. So thanks, Britain. Thanks.
In other news: yesterday I was standing in my parents' living room holding Milo, who is aged one and has thus far not been very interested in speaking English. As I hovered there with him perched on my hip, the cat moseyed past and Milo pointed at her and said casually, "Pussycat."
The only other person who witnessed this was Jenni, and although she says she heard it too, I think she might be humouring me. My sister doesn't believe me. So I'm recording it here because I know that you, dear readers, will believe me. My nephew is a genius.
*The photos are by Martin Parr. I borrowed them because I think he's wonderful.
4 readers just couldn't let me have the last word:
I don't think the banks deserve a holiday this year, let alone two.
The weather TOTALLY sucked this weekend...check out the sun showing his face today though. Too late Mr Sun, too late.
Can I be Frank?
OK, but only if you get a woolly polo-neck.
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