Long weekend. Not long enough. Partly because the fun times always end too soon. And partly because I spent a significant proportion of it asleep. 

It’s left me with a number of questions. No answers: I didn’t have time to work those out. But several questions. 

Can you enjoy being asleep if you’ve slept through it? Is it better to have too little of a good time, or enough of a mediocre one? Does calling something a ‘long weekend’ raise expectations more than calling it, say, a ‘weekend with a weekday added on’ would? Does the horror of returning to work after a long weekend completely counteract the fact that Friday comes a day earlier? Is there anything better than galloping across stubble fields? Except perhaps going to a festival in your friend’s back garden? Or watching hundreds of mods in full costume ride along the seafront on shiny scooters? Or swimming in the sea five minutes from your house with a very excited three-year-old?

Actually, thinking about it, maybe I have come up with one answer. I don’t know. I don’t know whether there’s anything better than all those things, and I don’t care. If there is, then great, bring it on. If there isn’t, then more of the same, please. Either way, there’s more than enough to fill countless long weekends. And the fact that they’re not long enough, well, that just leaves something to look forward to when Friday comes. Which, after a long weekend, is a day earlier than usual. Happy days.