DAILY PROMPT
B+
Write about what you did last weekend as though you’re a music critic reviewing a new album
It is a truth universally acknowledged (except by those hell bent on self-flagellation or blind revenge) that retrospective analysis is inevitably coloured both by subsequent outcomes, and by the inherently erratic nature of emotional recall.
This is particularly true of any attempt to review the album What you did last weekend when you consider that it is now this weekend – an unfortunate result of recycling prompts, particularly time-specific prompts that fail to allow for the passage of time.
The upshot in this case is that my copy of What you did last weekend is largely blank. How the hell should I know what I did last weekend? It’s a week ago for goodness sake. I love my life, but it’s not exactly brimming with glittering social events, adventurous expeditions and hugely significant milestones engraved in my memory in perpetuity.
In fact I love it because it isn’t all those things. It’s peaceful. I potter, and ask nothing more from life but that it spare me the crises, angst, drama and pain that it has a habit of dishing out randomly and with cavalier disregard for the niceties of equality and justice: the stuff that undoubtedly resonates in the Symphony of Life, but sits uneasily in the gentler realms of baroque.
As for grading it – again, how should I know? But in the absence of more substantial indicators, I’ll give it an A. I didn’t drop off the twig. Unless, unbeknownst to me, I’m now communicating from The Other Side, in which case it would deserve an A+, wouldn’t you say?
helen meikle's scribblefest 
I know we were in Arizona last week. But we were there the weekend before, too. It’s a blur of desert, cacti, mountains, sunsets, and meals eaten in restaurants, interrupted only by downloading and processing photographs. NO idea what I did last weekend, but I could look at my photo files and find out … and then review it as music? Really? You nailed it!
I think they”re all very young at WP – still of an age where weekends have to be Memorable or they’ve failed and peaceful would be akin to death.