How is it that when you have a day off during the week it’s so much more magical then the weekend?
On Wednesday I took the day off work to celebrate my birthday (which was on Monday). I slept in, I relaxed, and apart from the really lovely lunch I was treated to I didn’t really do anything much differently to what I would do on the weekend. But somehow the day seemed so much more magical and wonderful. Maybe it’s the knowledge that I would normally have been starting work at the time I woke up or maybe it’s that it’s just one day and not two.
In the end it doesn’t matter why it just matters that it was and it made my 22nd birthday that little bit more special then it would have been without it.