Posted by: comfortjunkie | August 24, 2008

I hate the weekends.

Yep, I’m probably the only person in the world who does. I hate them because no business gets done on weekends and I’m all about the benjamins, baby. My “work” schedule, and I use that term in the loosest sense of the word, is so flexible that nearly every day can be a weekend day for me. As long as I do little bit in the morning with my coffee and then check email throughout the day, meet my deadlines, I can nap, eat frosted mini-wheats in my underwear, go to the beach, see a movie, get a massage, lie on the floor and count the bricks in my cupola, or any number of weekend-type activities.

With any luck, I’ll get paid before next weekend because I have plans to take a little road trip to an archaeological site that is nearby. I’m not entirely sure what a petroglyph is, but I’m sure it’s exciting. I’m just too lazy to google it. Plus it’s by a waterfall and WHO doesn’t like waterfalls? Waterfalls mean that the water FALLS into something else, perhaps something that I can swim in!

The irony is that I purposefully got Tsunami as a puppy so that he could be my constant companion. I planned on taking him everywhere with me. Turns out that the poor guy gets violently car sick and no amount of “letting him get used to it” or dramamine or not feeding him in the AM stop the drooling and projectile vomiting that happens when he gets in the car. I even bought him a CAR SEAT so he could look out the window and I can’t take him anywhere. It’s sad for me and for him.

So anyway, back to weekends. If I don’t feel like working, there is nothing for me to do esp. this weekend because I’m hoarding my gold to pay my outrageous power bill. It also means that I don’t get any exciting emails like “hey, I found someone who wants to publish your book,” from my agent  or “hey, I want to pay you $800 to write all the copy for our new website.” During the weekdays, anything is possible. My next big job is only an email away. Weekends are boring and loud.

The screaming child screamed all day yesterday. I don’t know if something is medically wrong with this child (I suspect not) or if its going through one of those tantrum stages or what but it SUCKS. The whole reason I didn’t have more children is that I had the best one possible and I didn’t want to tempt fate. No big tantrums, no health issues, no sleep problems, no bed wetting, no colic, nothing. She was perfect and I know well enough not to press my luck. I hope wherever this child came from recently, it goes back to soon.

Last night there was a concert next door as there almost always is on the weekends. It’s one of the telltale signs that it actually IS a weekend for sure. I was heating up the rest of a somewhat unpleasant noodle dish I made with 1/3 of the listed ingredients (I didn’t adjust the other ingredients so it ended up being WAY too citrusy) when I heard the thumping.

When they got to Achy Breaky Heart in Spanish and the hokey pokey, it was time to go to bed with both fans on and a pillow over my head. During one song, at 2am, the bass was such that my car alarm chirped along for the entirety of the 10 minute song.

I’ve been having some strange dreams lately. You know those mystery hairs you sometimes get near your eyebrows? the ones that are like 4 inches long and white and you wonder where the hell they came from? I had a dream a few days ago that I had a ton of those coming out of my KNEES. How weird is that??

Last night I had a dream where I distinctly told someone that I went to church every Sunday. I don’t know that I’ve ever been to church on two consecutive Sundays. Or even two consecutive years.  Perhaps when I was small and staying with my grandparents…but I haven’t been to church as an adult. Ever. So that was kind of strange.

And finally, someone peed on my cantaloupe. I stopped in this fruit store that I drove by and always thought looked awesome. It turns out that it sucks. Big time. But they handed me a basket when I walked in and I thought it was rude not to buy anything so I bought a cantaloupe and one ear of corn for like $1. The cantaloupe has been on the counter and last apparently, in an act of rebellion because I finally took away the cat box since the kittens are old enough to go outside now, someone peed directly on my cantaloupe ON the countertop. Never a dull moment around here.

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