ALL WEEK. Yes. It's disgusting. I've blogged so much that I'm dreaming about it even.
I'm almost ashamed to admit it. Sort of. Part of me thinks our family deserves the break from jobs, bills, and life in general. I'm working on my writing and college courses, Jake is getting plenty of free playing time with neighborhood kids, and we've done a little hiking too. So it's not all bad. All this rest could be why we haven't been sick like everyone else in town. Yet.
But then I'm surfing through my blogroll, reading about how busy everyone else is, and I just feel plain lazy with a capital L.
If I really analyze it, I would have run out of things to do anyway. I detest spending my holidays playing maid by doing housework constantly when everyone is home and cleaned surfaces are dirty again 10 seconds later. There quite literally is nowhere to shop, nor do we need anything. The one movie playing at the tiny theatre here is rated 18 A, there is no bowling alley, the pool is closed, and it's rained all week. In fact out of the last 22 days? It's rained for 19 of them. Build an ark, people. I'll guarantee you that half the staff at work went somewhere tropical and will have all sorts of things to talk about come Monday. Me? Uhh...pjs?
Salvation is on the horizon! My dear, sweet husband has suggested we go to the city this weekend so that I can drool over brand new runners, and maybe even bring some home if I find some I like. I also insisted that we go to Purdy's chocolate so that I can
The rest of the weekend is devoted to more hikes, cleaning out the car, baking cookies, and tidying up the house for the week ahead. Just mundane, every day, boring stuff.
Except on Sunday. Besides being the last day for the candy swap, we're celebrating on Sunday. No parties, just some yummy take out, good movies, and a chocolate ganache cake.
This old girl is getting ever closer to 40. It's a bit scary.