You know I may be fifty one but I still get that OMG feeling, from about 4 o’clock on, on a Sunday afternoon. I don’t know why as I actually enjoy my work ( lucky me) but still it persists. It’s a reminder that I haven’t got half the things that I should or need to have done over the weekend and less than a teeniest fraction of the things I would like/love to have done.

How come I could sleep the clock round when the alarm goes off on a weekday ( having not slept for most of the night) and then at the weekend, when its possible to lie in until, oh…. 8.00am, my back breaks and I have to get up. “Anyway, sure I could have a wash in instead of lying in bed couldn’t I??” This is the kind of stuff that runs through my ( and most women I know) mind.

I’m thinking of taking up golf to get over this. Men I know, who play golf, get up early at the weekends too, but not to put a wash in or clear up the Friday night Chinese carry out mess; no… they get up early and disappear off to knock a ball around a course, walk off their middle age spread and also the frustrations of the previous week. God knows, with some of the frustrations of my weeks recently, I think I could hit that ball to Dublin!!

How come Monday night isn’t as bad as Sunday night? You still have a workday the next day so why doesn’t it feel as bad, if not worse, because you’ve been at work all day too?

Not that long ago I woke up in the early hours of Monday morning, in a complete blind panic. I thought I had forgotten to do my French homework. Considering it was going to be about 34 years late, boy was that teacher going to be pissed!!