It’s amazing how, not thaaaaaat many years ago (shut up!), I was battling with my parents over what time I was allowed to come home from being out with friends in the evening. Back then, conquering the right to an extra 20 or 30 minutes felt like a victory in a major battle. I subconsciously believed I would forever cherish the fruits of those battles.
Ten years later, my ideal friday night – especially now in winter – includes good food, a cat curled up next to me and a pile of magazines or a book. And that’s not even in preparation for a big weekend of hard partying, nope! My plans for the weekend include – you guessed it! – cakes and books and coffee and tea and biscuits and magazines and crap tv and early nights*. If I knew I was about to turn into such a nana so early on in life, I wouldn’t have made such a big deal over those 20 or 30 minutes ten years ago.
*and a fair bit of running in preparation for the half-marathon so, please, weather gods, be kind!