It cannot possibly be the weekend yet! Oh yeah, it can. And it is.

Flatmate number one is off on a beach trip. Flatmate number two, Shorn Lowry, is probably escorting his hot girlfriend to a triathlon or saving the world from people who dump old furniture in parks. I think my parents are probably off on a winery tour. My brother is hanging with his hot girlfriend. Cooking her a nice juicy rib fillet, I reckon.

And me? No plans.

Maybe I’ll do some exercising; like a light walk or some stretching, which is barely exercising at all. I could pack some of my favourite possessions into boxes. Or annoy the neighbours with some sax practice.

Nothing too illuminating there.

A completely free weekend is a rare occurance for a single gal. I’m not bragging here. Keeping busy and social is at the heart of my pursuit of happiness. But, a free weekend, that’s liberating and almost a treat.

There it is, stretching in front of me like an afternoon without snacks after a light lunch. How liberating.

We were contemplating this tonight and then Shorn Lowry puts the unasked question, the one I was avoiding, on the table. “Will you have many free weekends when you’re in Charleville,” he muses. “Like not at first, but after you’ve checked out the place and done all the touristy things?”

I’m stumped. My impending move to Outback Queensland excites me. It’s keeping me in a heady state of anticipation. Life will change dramatically. That’s the point! And I’m not one to get too bogged down with realistic thinking. “You’ve got to get your head out of the clouds,” I can hear my mum telling me, totally exasperated.

“I don’t want to. I like it up here,” I reply in a tone of voice that demonstrates my place in the family: youngest and the only daughter. Ha. Take that!

But there’s that niggly voice, it’s bloody Shorn Lowry – will I be lost without the crazy schedule of coffee dates, drinks, lunches, dinner parties? Gosh, I spend a lot of time eating; maybe I will be thin when I’m in Charleville. Or i’ll just eat alone. Is that sadder than drinking alone? I’ll let you know.

Or I’ll rock it.

All I need is a goal, or a few goals. Here they are: I will create a bountiful garden to tend to on weekends, and probably weekdays too, as is the needy nature of gardens; I’ll join the local netball club, the Yabbie Racing Society and probably the local theatre company; I will learn to paint and to speak another language; I will get to know the local pubs and their inhabitants, maybe I will even get to hang my hat above the bar one day – that’d be a coup; and, above all, I will learn to spend a weekend alone and happy.

Now, for this weekend’s goal. Maybe I’ll sort out my underwear draw and clean out the pantry. Or not. Maybe I could just chill and revel in my liberty. Even, heaven forbid, enjoy it.

Because, the schedule is not going to be empty forever. Next weekend I’ll have that garage sale, and I’ll keep the old green chair, mum. I promise.