Bank Holiday Weekend with Russell Brand

Having spent pretty much all of my professional career (in the UK at least) a slave to the service industry, I have never seen the wondrous thing that is a four-day weekend. So used, am I, to working, as chefs, waiting staff, emergency service workers and other such labourers are so accostomed, when everyone else is enjoying themselves, that even a glimpse of sunlight was once a treasured gift. We work the weekends, the late nights, and most unsociably, the holidays. Whether it be Christmas, New Year or Easter, the call of the service industry is never-ending, so remember to tip well and forgive the occasionally disgruntled employee when you're out having a whale of a time.

This year, however, I have had the utmost joy of actually being able to spend a bank holiday weekend with my feet up. Four days without work (Friday and Monday being paid, of course, or else I would have clocked in and put my feet up in my classroom!) has allowed me for once to see how the other half live. It's also given me a ruddy well-earned break after the eventful and exhausting first month at my new place of employment.

A picnic on the beach, followed by the not-quite-amazing-but-certainly-better-than-the-first Amazing Spider-Man 2 on the gloriously sunny Good Friday, a day in the park on an equally fair-weathered Saturday, museums and ramen followed by movie night with good friends on a rainy Easter Sunday before finally getting all those menial weekendy things done today. Top it all off with a tummy filled with M&S Easter eggs, and we have a most joyous weekend indeed (I shall omit the fact that I've just sat through the rather terrible "Hop" on TV this evening!)

But as you sit back this evening, fully relaxed and raring to hit the office tomorrow morning for another four-day week, spare a momentary thought for those who have not had the same luck. The chefs that cooked your wonderful meals out this weekend, the disgruntled teens that served them. The shop staff that found you those last minute eggs at five thirty on Saturday. And most importantly the emergency services that have been overworked as a result of the tomfoolery of all-too-excited folks with weekends of alcoholic mischief. They're the ones that really deserved the break. 

As a kitchen veteran though I've ruddy well earned mine!