I had eleven consecutive days off work from 22 April, and I'd organised a shoot for Easter Monday. However the model, normally a reliable and reputable girl by all accounts, flaked. I'd been having such a good break until then, so it dragged my mood down a wee bit.
A close friend of mine had a date on Monday evening, and when she got home (at 7.45am on Tuesday, wink-wink) she wanted some relationship advice. So I headed over to her place that evening for chow-mein, footie with her dog Dexter, and a lot of bla-bla.
Same close friend needed more advice on Wednesday. So we took a wee drive to our old stomping ground at the Loup o' Fintry to enjoy the weather, the views, and more bla-bla.
I thought she'd have been bored of me by Thursday, but she took a sickie from work and we jumped in the car for a day trip to Millport. Snapshots on the beach, a wee drink in the beer garden, and a third day's bla-bla. On the way back, we stopped off to buy her a mobile broadband dongle, and so got her back online too.
Friday... well surely that's the last I've seen of her? She has a prior engagement this evening, after all. But no, she'd rather cancel it so that I can come over for an all-nighter, and we can get drunk while watching comedy DVDs of Billy Connolly and Kevin Bridges. I slept over, and then gave her a lift to her folks' place on Saturday where she was attending a family do.
This was supposed to be a quiet week of housework for me, but as I write this my place is still an absolute tip. I don't care though; good times with good friends are more important than laundry and washing up.