Just like Hemmingway...

This weekend my boyfriend abandoned me to attend a Stag Party and illness prevented me from doing much with my days so I resolved to have a nice relax and to catch up on some housework and book-reading like the absolute girl scout that I am. Boring but Yay me and my good girl ways, right? Because I am an ADULT now. Hmm, well, it turns out, when I get the house to myself and have total freedom, I don’t exactly feel motivated to cook, clean and otherwise behave like a good little wifey. In fact, I get a bit Hemmingway… If Hemmingway wore face masks and ate too much cake, which I’m sure he did.

Here’s what I had planned to do with my free weekend:

1. Get laundry out of machine and hang to dry on drying rack, outside if sun is out. Put another load of laundry in machine.
2. Take the boyfie’s trousers to dry cleaners because he got sick on them at that wedding we were at last month… (Wonder whether I need to explain and apologise to the laundry lady about the sick or just shrug and say, “Open bar.”)
3. Wash dishes in kitchen and clean up in there because I am not a student anymore!
4. Catch up on some reading like a proper literati, consider calling father or Godfather to discuss serious literary works that have been read.
5. Write highly intellectual blog post which gives a clear solution for peace in the Middle East or similar.

Here’s what I actually did with my free weekend:

1. Through practical experimentation and charting of emotional responses, assessed why peeing with bathroom door open is so strangely satisfying.
2. Went to supermarket for fresh produce to create healthy meals for the weekend, somehow managed to leave supermarket and return home clutching only wine and a childrens party's worth of cakes.
3. Changed in to PJs and remained looking hideous for entirety of the weekend. Improved ridiculousness of the “look” by wearing a face mask to watch TV. Enjoyed not having to hide in the bathroom with it on like when boyfriend is home. Realised that, actually, when hiding in bathroom for 10 minute face mask it probably just seems to boyfriend like I’m taking a huge and painfully difficult dump which is considerably more troubling and less attractive than just Beyoncé strutting through the house with a massive mint green face. Resolve to no longer hide in bathroom when wearing face masks.
4. Ate all the cake, drank all the wine. Felt a bit sick, pushed through it, because I AM A WARRIOR!
5. Thought about how liberating it is to be home alone drunk in the day time, like Hemmingway or Jack London. Then thought I’m probably not exactly the same as Hemmingway when I find myself singing Foreigner power ballads in to an empty wine bottle microphone (“I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IIIISSSS! I WANT YOU TO SHOOOWW MMEEEE!”) and lying on floor, re-enacting Jack and Rose in water scene from Titanic ("I’ll never let go, Jack!" but then totally let go because Rose is a fucking liar).

Number of chores completed: 0.
Number of books or enlightening newspaper articles read: 0.
Sum total contribution to anything outside of the inevitable destruction of my mental well-being: 0.

Oh, I also let the stray cat that I claim to hate in for a cuddle.