There are a lot of things people don’t know about Canberra, which often lead to…
This is a public service announcement.
This June long weekend is our last public holiday until the end of September. The public holiday drought we dread every year has come around again and is about to embrace us with its icy fingers. Like double denim, it’s a trend that just.won’t.let.go.
But rather than commiserate and eat our weight in M&M chocolate, let’s celebrate the marvellous cultural phenomena that is the Australian long weekend and its unique vernacular.
Across the country far and wide you’ll hear these quintessential long weekend thoughts:
“This long weekend we are finally going to repave the driveway/build a cubby house/install a sprinkler system!”
Or some other around-the-house job you keep putting off and are most likely unqualified to actually do. After the 11th trip to Bunnings and super glueing your fingers to your nostril, the enthusiasm is waning.
“Yes! One more day to put off our horrible weekend life admin!”
Everyone hates weekend life admin. Crowded car parks, tired children, mountains of washing. Long weekends are a chance to escape! But then you realise it’s a long weekend, not the apocalypse and on Tuesday you will still need clean clothes and dinner that is not raw 2-minute noodles.
“Let’s drive back from the coast at 4pm on Monday like everyone else. There will be no traffic!”
You forget you said the same thing last year. And the year before that. Twenty minutes in and the regret is setting in. Ten minutes ago you passed the last public toilets for fifty kilometres. The situation has now reached critical.
“I should have sent that urgent-but-awkward work email Friday afternoon but #yolo because it’s the long weekend!”
Tuesday 9am: email still has to be sent. You will never learn.
“I’m only packing enough to go away for two nights”
We all know the type. Proceeds to spend the first day of long weekend packing the entire house and the next five weekends unpacking. You all eat dinner on the couch for a month because the camping gear, eight emergency flares and kitchen sink are still on the dining room table. We still don’t know where Spot is.
“Pfft, I don’t need to book for Sunday brunch everyone will have gone away”
Quickly realise everyone did not go away. Literally every person in the city is at Sunday breakfast hungry for their smashed avo fix. Proceeds to spend most of long weekend waiting for a table.
“What are my plans for the long weekend? Oh I’ll go to Pilates every morning and this is a great time to do a Juice Cleanse”
When in actual reality sat in pyjamas all weekend and slowly worked your way through the contents of your pantry. The recipe combinations proved interesting.
“What do you mean Coles and Woolies aren’t open today?”
How could they have possibly not know that of course you didn’t buy any of your Easter/Christmas/New Year’s feast for 22 and left it all to the last minute! Does the corner shop down the road sell 15kg turkeys?
“Renting a holiday house for three families with one bathroom will be totally fine!”
It was not and there were sixteen very close near-misses. And that was just the adults.
“How is it time to go back to work already?”
Ah yes, the most widespread long weekend thought. Grandfather time marches on and yet we still pine for just one more day of fish and chips, local farmers markets and eight hour Netflix binges.
Long weekends are like self-saucing puddings. They’re the decadent gift that keeps on giving yet eventually they all come to an end and you’re left having to do the dishes.
But now we must stand resolutely in the face of three months with no public holidays and resign ourselves to a life of normal weekends instead. Oh, the humanity!