Long weekends are difficult for the hermit in me. I know I need to get my ass out the door and do things. Fun! Exciting! Things! Yet the Hermit says stay in, it is so hot out there. There are Fun! Exciting! Things! to do inside the doors.
A couple months ago, we had talked about going to float the river over Memorial Day weekend. I have not done this in several years. Beer, water, swimsuits. Beer helps make you forget how that swimsuit looks on you. But, as it got closer, we decided not to do that. Which may be good in light of how fat pansies are.
The in-laws were planning on coming into town today. I found out about a new display at the Natural Science Museum for the mens to hang out at. The girls, well, we could find something to do, I am sure.
Last night we indulged in beer. Copious amounts. And then some. We slept until noon. I knew that I had lots of cleaning to do in preparation for the arrival of the in-laws. I have been repeatedly told by Not Craig to chillax. His parents don’t care if the house is clean. They probably wouldn’t even notice. In my mind, that translates into, “Blah, blah, blah”. I needed to clean. So I would not panic when they knocked on the door. I had to buy groceries. I had things to do. So when I woke up at noon, feeling like warmed poo, I tried to step it up and do things. And I did. I made coffee and sat on the couch.
Then the call came.
So now, my plans are shipwrecked. I do not have to clean, or shop, or entertain.
I still feel icky. I have no clue as to what we should do this weekend now. Thoughts? Ideas? I am not opposed to being a hermit and not showering for 3 days and not leaving the house. Ever.
I am of the opinion that Not Craig will not permit this. He does not share the hermit-y factor like I do.
And if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could ya’ll post some things. I need something to read when I stubbornly glue myself to this chair for the next 72 hours.
P.S. This posting was interrupted by the urging of Not Craig to shower and go see the new Indiana Jones movie. That requires pants. That is not the weekend I have embraced in the past hour. A weekend without pants, that is.