Weekend Warrior

Weekends are really nice.
Weekends that start with £1.50 slices of pizza and buy one get one free cocktails which mean you get dinner and cocktails for two for £15.
Weekends when your Mum comes to visit and buys you a new jumper and you spend the day trying to find (and finding!) her the perfect New Year's Eve dress.
And when she takes you and your boyfriend out of dinner and you have Indian street food so you get to try eight different things on the menu and they are all amazing.
Weekends are nice when you rush to the pub after dropping your Mum off at the station and get there and your team are already 3-0 up. And go on to win 4-1 and your throat hurts afterwards from screaming so much every time the ball goes remotely near the goal.

Weekends are nice when you get up later than usual for your Sunday run and run your longest run since injury in your new trainers (even if you did get them a bit muddy).
Weekends are nice when you wear your new jumper the next day so you can show your Mum. Because she got a new jumper too and you said the day before you would both wear your new jumpers when you saw each other on Sunday.
Weekends are nice when you spend the day visiting family. An hour and a half with my Nan, who made cakes and sandwiches and endless cups of tea. Then to Phil's Gran's. Then to my Auntie Bre's where all my family pop in on a Sunday afternoon and you arrive at 4pm and there are already 13 members of your family squeezed into the living room with cups of tea and slices of banoffee pie, which my uncle made especially because he knew Phil was coming.

Weekends are nice when your Dad gets you a heater so you can warm up your freezing flat and it's nice and toasty while you're making a roast dinner and you think "I want to blog about this just because I want to remember this weekend."

Weekends are nice when it's 7pm and there's still three blissful hours of weekend left before bedtime and you're not quite ready to let go just yet.


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