I henceforth move to abolish all busy weekends, to be reinstated never, for the good (and sanity) of all hardworking people everywhere. It is in the best interest of all people expected to produce worthwhile results during the workweek to have a genuine weekend. A weekend that allows them to putter around the house getting odd tasks done. A weekend that gives them space to breathe and and regroup. A weekend abundant with opportunities to relax.
Now, this could just be a unique-to-Erika situation, but a busy weekend seriously cramps my style for the entire workweek. I’m tired, less creative, and more inclined to get snippy with the people who annoy me. It is my opinion that giving people an extra weekend day, should the weekend be too busy to allow for such relaxation, would improve the productivity and attitude of workers worldwide. We shall call this proposal the “Weekend Stimulus Plan”.
This weekend definitely qualifies for the weekend stimulus plan. On Friday I tore out of work like a bat out of…a bat cave of course, and off we went for our first consultation with our brand new accountant. After that, we zoomed over to have dinner with Wes’ brother and his lovely family (my sister-in-law makes a mean lasagna, in case you’re curious) and had a really great time.
We didn’t get home until midnight (because that’s how wild and crazy we are) so by then it was too late to blog. Enter Saturday, wherein I completely lost my mind trying to do entirely too much and failing miserably. I tried to clean the house in an hour (fail), tried to find away around the traffic that was making me late for my writing group meeting (triple fail, for getting lost, accidentally driving up a sidewalk, and curbing my tires while trying to parallel park), and squeezing in grocery shopping early enough to make dinner at a reasonable hour (also fail, as dinner was served at 7:30pm).
To add to all of that drama, I ran into my number one least favorite person at the coffee shop where I was meeting my writing group: My ex-boss. The one from my first out-of-college job. The person who inspired this post about it raining poop, and this post about feeling eviscerated, and this post about leaving rotting shrimp in the air ducts of his office.
He was sitting right by the door when I walked in and he totally noticed me. He glared, in fact, with his great big sour face. I, of course, handled it with my customary grace and aplomb: I completely ignored him.
So now it’s Sunday and Wes is washing the dog and I’m investigating how to get a restraining order so my ex-boss will legally not be allowed to talk to me. So, just another Sunday for us, really. If the weekend stimulus plan were enacted, though, I’d have a whole extra day with which to get my hand back on straight. I just need one extra day. And a mai tai. But mostly just an extra day.