I wasn’t on Facebook Sunday.
I got on Monday night and saw people wishin one another Happy Superbowl as though it’s a special holiday and I was like, “Why am I friends with these people?!?” but then I thought about it and I was like, these people are friends with me when i post a neurotic vaguery of swear in my own special nonsense language, so right on, a very happy superbowl to y’all, too.
Meanwhile, I’m like, Supersnow Sunday! Hurrah! Powdery stuff, all floofy and sweet. On Sunday I lay on my husband and sat my sofa. I petted the people and the animals and played my word games and smiled at my clean house. Then I made chocolate espresso cake.
The Mister deejayed, so it was old sad bastard music all the way. (If you know what book-slash-movie that phrase is from, you make my Top Five. *wink wink*)
On Monday, I went to work early and it was challenging. Then I went home, dropped people at rehearsal, went to the goddamn grocery store, went home again, and made myself a big ol crispy salad. My husband kissed my neck for such a substantial length of time, Sassy made gagging noises. As you all know, making salad is hawt. I bought French dressing. Y’all ever had French dressing? I never bought it before Monday. I only ever ate it at our friends’ house. I found myself delighted every time they served salad, knowing that tangy dressing would be offered. I thought, i could actually buy this. it’s not like how i only buy poppycock when i go to the home store… it’s just salad dressing. So I plopped in those sugar snap peas and carrots and radishes and waved my new dressing over it and I ate that shit up.
Tuesday was Tuesday alright. I wore my black sweater with the asymmetrical collar. I should have worn chinkless armor. I cannot decide, even now, if I had it coming or if I walked into a trap. I worked late, but not as late as I’d expected. The sky did this:
I drove home croonin out Anna Nalick.
When I got home, I immediately soaked in a hot bath. I floated mermaid-style while Catticus lapped at my water and pawed at my nose and I thought about how hungry I was. is it me or does email burn a lot of calories? non? Moo and The Mister had made Moo Stew and it was delicious because they made it with love, of course
and I was starved outta my head. Then The Mister did dishes, because he’s an acts of service kinda guy, and while I’m a words of affirmation kinda gal, him doin the dishes was about a thousand times better than him sayin he likes my pajama pants or someshit. Oh, and on Tuesday, we wear our favorite pajamas, too.
Wednesday was splendid. The Mister brought me coffee in bed. Not only did I have few work emails, but I made it to zero blog emails on Wednesday — a feat, I tell ya! I talked to The Mister all the way home, but when I got there I realized I forgot to stop and get phone chargers. Hand to God, Sassy goes through phone chargers faster than she goes through shampoo. I made stir-fry and I want you to know that it was delicious, but I couldn’t eat it all. I hadda save room for a Klondike Bar.
Thursday was marvelous, as Thursdays can’t help but be. Work was busy and good. I left mid-afternoon to go run one errand and left early to run another. Some people don’t like to run errands on their jobs. Apparently they’re not into getting paid to drive and sing far from the pinging of emails? The sun was still up THE WHOLE TIME!
The Mister made Spaghetti That Is Not Spaghetti, which is what Sissy named it when she was but a wee thing. It’s spaghetti with marinara, but thick with Italian sausage and heavy on the basil. While he did that, I made us all chicken salad sammiches for lunch today. My big boy would NOT stay off me. Even when the kids climbed on, he would not leave his mama. He would sit on my head if he had to.
I know there were other kitties online, and doors, and even some word games, but y’all, he needed me.
Finally, Friday, Woot!
My hair wouldn’t behave. I put about two tons of silicone in it, and tried to knot it, but springy bits kept poppin out all over. I put another two tons of silicone in it and clipped the sides up in a barrette like it was 1990. Yes, I did have wicked good hair in 1990.
At the office, it was one of those days where around 5:00, you dunno where time went, but you know you will not finish all your work. In the background, people were talkin about Shapiro’s and I was all, i am a matzo ball floating in the broth of life… but also, we should have soup this weekend…
Only The Mister was home upon my return. He suggested we flip the mattress before heading out. Since my husband spent his youth surrounded by fundamentalist Christian women, the, as I call it, “Pentecostal Hair” always works for him.
The girls were in their very first concert piece together tonight and it was neato. (They’re not in the video, don’t look for them.)
Happy Weekend Everyone!