I have broken my weekend. It just doesn’t work the way it used to. Back when my weekend was working correctly, five o’clock Friday would come, and it kicked in like clockwork. I would spend Friday evening with friends, get up Saturday and work out, maybe do some shopping, pick up groceries, take the dog for a walk, wash the car, see a movie, go to dinner, have some drinks, listen to music, and it would STILL be Saturday. I had all day Sunday to do even more! By the time I do any combination of those things now, three months have passed.
I tried getting up early. Saturday morning I was up at 7:30. (Daisy decided she was bored and needed company.) I was dressed by 8:30, drove Austin, my stepson, to the first day of his new job, and bought some breakfast. Seemed like I was well on my way to actually having a productive weekend.
Something went wrong. By 4:15 p.m. I had watched Bizarre Foods, Modern Family, a few minutes of Stagecoach (by accident), two episodes of Ingenious Minds, and fallen asleep twice. Oh yeah, and I ate lunch. I know you won’t be able to imagine how I worked lunch into that harrowing schedule, but I did. So much for selecting new glasses, going to the grocery store, walking the dog, and getting a little “hello, springtime” color over at Palm Beach Tan. That writing assignment? Are you kidding? There’s even a sale at Borders, and I have a gift card. No dice. Not happening.
Maybe it’s the winter doldrums. Maybe I’m depressed. Overworked. Overwrought.
Maybe I’m just lazy.
A body in motion tends to stay in motion. A body supine on the couch tends to become a doggy pillow.
If you know a good fix-it person, let me know. Or maybe I just need the proper motivation. One errand, one cocktail?
Now, how do I get the dog to stop staring at me?