a weekend read

I read half a book this weekend. The last 'half a book' I read took me a month to complete and majority of that was on a long-haul flight back from South Africa.
I woke up early (really early) yesterday morning to spend some time with Fox before he jetted off to Egypt. By 11am I was on Oxford St to meet a girlfriend (Miss Erica) for brunch at The Breakfast Club (quirky little spot in trendy Soho). On the way to the station, the lure of bright pink 3-for-2 stickers on numerous bestseller novels drew me into Borders. After much deliberation I decided that I did not, in fact, need three books but that one would suffice and walked out with a copy of Marian Keyes’ Anybody Out There. To ensure that I wasn’t left feeling hard-done-by I stopped in at the library on the way home and managed to pick up a copy of one the other books I had intended to purchase, This Book will Save Your Life by A. M. Homes (phew - I must have picked it up just in time!).
Thanks to the afternoon sun streaming through my bedroom window and a severe lack of sleep I managed approximately 3 pages before retreating into a deep 1 hr Saturday afternoon slumber. I woke up feeling unexpectedly perky and predictably desperate for chocolate (it’s this odd thing that afternoon naps do to me).
A quick hair-rescue was in order (I simply could not subject the world to the horrors of my severe bed-head) and then a bus ride down to Wandsworth where I met Jo to watch Becoming Jane. We concluded the evening, at Manor Fields (oh, that's where I live) with a civilised cup of tea, a generous serving of Ben & Jerry's (consistently delectable, boys) and a good ol' chinwag.
I woke naturally this morning but, again, way too early and decided to use the time to get stuck into my book.
A bit later in the morning I ventured further west to visit Mom’s church where they had an ex-hitman as guest speaker. His style was perhaps a little too militant for my liking but his message was powerful. However, pictures of a 3-month-old baby post-‘boiled in oil’ left me feeling quite disturbed, if not somewhat upset.
Mom and I passed the afternoon by drinking tea and chatting (sudden realisation that my tea consumption has increased significantly). I made good use of the tube journey home to delve further into my novel.
On arriving home I slapped together a couple of tuna wraps, took the Ben & Jerry’s out of the freezer and endured My Fair Lady for long enough to decide my book had far more appeal and Eliza Doolittle’s voice was best appreciated in small doses.
So here I sit, in my bed (having typed this post numerous times thanks to technical issues!!), not quite ready to flick the light-switch on my weekend. Perhaps I’ll read just a few more pages…