Where the heck did the weekend go? Seriously. I'm sure there WAS one, but an jiggered as to where it went. Much like Albert, the disappearing outdoor cat, the weekend just went 'poof' and now here we are on Monday, which is almost over but for the shouting and there's still a huge pile of clean laundry that needs to be folded, I have no idea what for dinner (HellOO, leftovers!), and it seems I'm owed a few hours of sleep.
This is alarming. I may have actually DONE something with my weekend, therefore disappearing it all on my own.
Friday - work. Biff had a gig, so I didn't see him. I think I spent way too much time online. Who knows?
Saturday - what happened to make it go so fast? Ah yes, bathing cats as a start. I began with Lola, as she is small and dainty and would likely not put up much of a fight. Then there was Eric, who is at least twice as big as Lola and has a real true heartfelt aversion to water. It was a struggle, but in the end the human won. Yes, it took 2 of us. Then I recall something about helping out the Biffster with some remodeling work, wherein I relearned how to grout, and then scrubbed away at the shower he'd tiled and grouted to get rid of the EXTRA grout, then there was a bit of lunch and then we wrestled some bigass mirrors into place, at which time there certainly was some cussing (mine), but creativity and dogged determination (his) got the job finally done, after which there was the matter of faucets and cleanup and then it was 7 p.m. and we drove home. Stopped at Petsmart for anti-flea ammo, then bathed the remaining cat. While Biff sprinkled the carpet with magic fairy dust, I believe I made chili. Too tired to use more than one pot. Then we stayed up WAY too late watching stupid crap. The rule is that any less than 3 hours spent 'relaxing' just won't cut it, and anything leading up to couch time doesn't count as relaxing if you're doing anything constructive.
So, Sunday came too soon.
Biff was out the door early to go play drums at church, I went to the second service. We left to go to his gig. He played for 4 hours in deathly heat on a blacktop parking lot outside a biker bar. They almost lost the lead guitar player to heat stroke. He did not stroke, so they finished all three sets. They packed up. We were home by 8. I made chicken soup. We collapsed.
And then it was over. No languid afternoons spent reading or dreaming up outrageous vacation plans. No lounging of nearly any sort during times when lounging isn't normally an option. No laying about, no lollygagging AT ALL!
Silver linig time: The bestest thing was that nearly every minute was spent with Darling Biff, so that's a big plus. On the minus side - what happened to the lollygagging and languid lounging???
I think I'd like a do-over.
What'd y'all do this weekend? Do brag on your good times in the comments, won't you? I promise not to leave stalkerly comments on your blogs if you gush about perfect days on beaches or that wonderful nap you took. Really, I'm interested, much in the same way an urchin peers through the wrought-iron bars of a mansion's yard as the carriages begin to arrive at a ball. I might not have the chance to go in, but I can live vicariously through YOU.
Tiff out.
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