The first weekend to follow a long weekend is always much too short

It might've been short, but it sure packed a punch. Add these ingredients, stir - and you might come close to what my weekend was like:
~ Friday night dinner party with friends, where my beloved and I effortlessly looked like Iron Chefs (as per last post)
~ a kickass Saturday morning yoga session (I love my yoga instructor. She rocks my world!)
~ multi-denominational Saturday arvo women's meeeting/lunch to welcome new Islamic women to Melbourne. Some topical conversation, HEAPS of food and the destruction of plenty of ignorance barriers...
~ coffees at Lygon Food Store followed by 'The Assassination of Richard Nixon' at the Nova with a darling friend
~ shopping in Brunswick Street today where I bought my dream coat*
~ dinner at the Napier (Meals as big as your head. Oh yes...)
~ several text messages back and forth with one of my beloved lasses in London

And now, post-prandial bliss. Ah yes. But how could it possibly be Monday tomorrow? Went much too quickly. I think it's true that the first weekend after a long weekend always seems much shorter than any other. But it's also almost winter solstice, so the days always seem short until you're over 'the hump'.

(* This is not just any dream coat. I would die for this coat. It's a long, military green, thick, woollen beefcake of a thing, with structured seams, pockets with zips (oh yes. I said zips on the pockets, even!) and buckle detailing that would make you want to bend me over and take me right there in the cell block like the sexy dominatrix Russian prison guard I am. Well it had better have that effect, because it cost a freakin' fortune. But when you've been dreaming about a coat since you saw it in passing three whole weeks ago, it's time to suck it up and pull out the plastic. It hurt, but not so much that the post-purchase bliss didn't take over within seconds of walking out the door. And as my beloved says - "it's an investment". I'll have it forever. God I love him. Couldn't stand having to hide shopping bags. Hey, it's my money anyway, right? Fo sheezy.)