I used to spend bank holidays in a whirlwind of activity and alcohol. I’d fill it up months in advance and the second the clock on the bottom right of my screen ticked round to home time, I’d be off to some bar with wine glasses in my eyes. I’d spend the days ordering Dominos pizza to my sofa, watching back-to-back episodes of Scandal before dragging myself up and out again.
Let’s be honest. I still do this sometimes.