I have been surprised by Easter. This being a year of "working from home", I suddenly found out that, ah, there's pretty much nothing to do for four days, London's closed, and most of my friends are on holidays that they planned in 2007.
I've never been any good at Bank Holidays. When I was at the BBC I frequently turned up to work on them, felt immediately foolish, and slinked home at lunchtime pretending I'd been to the gym for a really long time.
But now I'm even more rubbish at them. I look longingly at friends who spend Bank Holidays restoring their Tuscan Villa/ Paragliding in Norfolk/ On four day clubbing benders. I would now appear to spend mine talking to the cat.
It's not been that bad - I've had a whole pile of work to do (that I've done Very Badly), and I've been to Brighton (where it rained). But when I finally decided "right, sod it, let's read a book", I fell solidly asleep. It's now 9pm on a Sunday night, and bugger it, I'm going out and I'm doing something. It will be fabulous. And, if it isn't, then I shan't tell you.