Today is my Friday. Tomorrow is a bonus Saturday. This entire weekend was supposed to be full of words like relaxation and swimming pool and lazy and to hell with dinner, lets order a pizza and fall asleep watching a Lifetime made-for-TV movie like I used to do when I was single. But no.
Jeff and I were going to go swimming tomorrow and then go to a barbeque at my mom’s house. We were going to get a little tan, a little burnt, eat tons of good food and spend the day ‘funning and sunning’ (although I’m pretty sure neither of those are actually verbs). It was supposed to be a little uncomfortably hot and we were all supposed to complain about what a scorcher it was.
Also, did I mention getting a tan?
And now this plan has been ruined. Because why? BECAUSE OF THE MONSOON THAT’S RAGING OUTSIDE OF THE GIANT OFFICE WINDOW. The monsoon that’s going to last all weekend. No swimming pool. No outside BBQ. No scorcher. NO TAN.
So I’m like, it’s all good, we’ll just relax all day Saturday and listen to the rain and rent cheesy horror movies and nap. Maybe go to a nice dinner and then head to bed early and fall asleep to the thunder and my “rainy-day” playlist on iTunes (which, yes, I have one, don’t judge me).
And now this plan has been ruined. Because why? BECAUSE OF THIS BIG SHOW THAT JEFF’S PLAYING IN SOME CRAPPY TOWN TWO HOURS AWAY AND WE’RE GONNA BE THERE ALL DAMN DAY. It’ll consist more of driving in the rain to the middle of West ass nowhere, setting up drum equiptment, eating a Whopper in the car and then sitting on a hard plastic chair in the middle of a giant party full of people I don’t know while my husband plays jazz songs. No early bedtime. No horror flicks. NO RAINY DAY PLAYLIST.
I’m depressed. Although, on the bright side, this means I won’t have a chance to forget to water my brand new flower garden and almost kill it like I did the 3rd day I even had it.
Whoopity-muther effin-do.





