Just a short post today, Drunkards. Because something very unusual has happened.
I'm overbooked today.
Unfortunately, none of it involves madly typing at my computer, which would mean I was spending my Saturday writing. But I'm never not going to use the "cat typing" gif if I can possibly shoehorn it into a post.
I used to be a relatively busy person. Now and again I'll see a Facebook memory where I talk about what a busy day I was planning to have/was having/had. Facebook has become a cesspool of trolls and grumpy acquaintances offering indistinguishable bad takes on silly topics, and I mostly stay away from it these days. But at its best it was a useful chronicle of the 2010s, which were a decade of me being a mom, a wife, a homeowner, a person with some vague notions of having a "career" rather than a job, even a social life.
Lol, nope, never that. But in retrospect, I had a typical suburban schedule of school activities and DIY projects at home and keeping up with friends and family. I was - not all the time but much of the time - busy.
Gradually my life has slowed down and my world has gotten smaller. It started when I got divorced, which lopped off an entire half a family's worth of social responsibilities (no regerts). It continued with Precocious Daughter graduating from high school and the end of being Marching Band Mom, Karate Mom, etc. Then, of course, the pandemic hit, and even for a homebody like me, normal life became truncated and isolated for a while.
I'm not going to say that life has picked up where it left off yet, at least not for me. Things like going to the movies, attending concerts, etc. are probably still weeks if not months in my future. I'm not 100% sure they're safe, and I'm 200% sure it's going to take my hermit brain more time to be comfortable around that many people again. Your mileage may vary. I wasn't a fan of crowds or a social butterfly before COVID hit, so while I missed those things when they were taken away, I also adapted very easily to staying home and doing nothing.
Happy little potato, that's me.
Still, there are signs that the old modes of living are returning, for better or for worse. And so today I actually have a - oh, what's that word? - a schedule. Ugh. And it starts with me having to be somewhere at 10:00 a.m. on a freaking Saturday. For a work-related event, of all things. That involves being outside in the Texas heat and humidity and pretending to enjoy myself. I'm sweating on multiple levels just thinking about it.
Then I'm meeting a friend to help him pick out curtains. In an honest-to-glob store. Stores selling things other than toilet paper and lunchmeat still exist in 2021, I'm told. If I'm lucky, I'll have time to go home and shower in between these events. Or not. This excursion may turn out to be a future post if it goes entertainingly enough. Stay tuned.
Afterwards I have to get home in time to clean up myself and my apartment for Drummer Boy, who is coming over around 5:00. Probably I should stop at the grocery store, too. Drummer Boy likes fresh half-and-half for his coffee on Sunday morning.
Now, that last part is by far the best part of today's schedule and is what will sustain me through the rest of it. But it still involves managing my time on a scale I haven't had to deal with in more than a year. My normal Saturday schedule in the pandemic era involves clicking "yes" when the TV asks me if I'm still watching, which is so judgmental, if you ask me. You'd think the TV would be happy to be of service. Everybody's a critic.
Anyway. That's my Saturday, which may not sound terribly hectic but is a lot for someone like me who thought we had all agreed to stay home and never interact again. Now I have to shave my legs and everything.
Do I even have that many tea lights? Do I have to do my nails first? Can my leg actually assume that position? Look, this is getting complicated, so I'll leave you here.
Whatever your Saturday looks like, Drunkards, make it a good one.
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