I had an amazing weekend. I don't think I did a single thing I intended to. Friday night I didn't go out after work, but I really wanted to. I received a voicemail that my friends had seen *and stalked mildly* the man I have a major crush on, so I hustled to be able to meet them only to realize I received the message two hours after they sent it. I then apologized for calling them at 1 AM. What?
Saturday things turned around after the cats decided the litter box was a good place for turf wars, to be followed up by knocking down shelving over the work desk. Good times.
I cleaned up the first mess & walked away from the second. It was too much. I closed the door so the offending critters couldn't walk through the glass & left. For seven hours.
Yeah, I had to clean the mess up when I came home, but right then, I had the choice to walk away so I didn't continue to over-react to what turned out to be a mild catastrophe, not the major disaster I thought it was. Future parenting strategy? I think so.
Dear World, I got to play disc golf for the first time in a year, on a beautiful course that's only going to get better with time. Followed by dinner and a trip to the beach. Did I mention Round Barn Brewery Summer Wheat was on tap at dinner? Are you catching on to the fact all of this together was enough to erase the poop & hurricane at home?
Sunday ended up equally fantastic with church, a nice noon meal with my parents (I was able to treat them for once!) and more disc golf and beach time.
It's been difficult to move back. There's so much I want to do, so many things I want to accomplish, even more I want to experience. My friends from high school, they've moved on, made more friends, friends they're kind enough to share. It's uncomfortable because I'm the 3rd (or 5th, or 7th, or good grief, the 9th) wheel. I have to suck it up. I told my friend Steven Joseph I wasn't going to appear in any more group photos until I had a date equally or more attractive than myself. Not hard. The equal or more part. If you follow me on twitter you know I can't get a decent date to save my life.
Moving on. This weekend. It was fantastic. Pops said I had needed it. I did. It helped. Because today I got out of bed & got shit done. All day. Baked muffins, vacuumed after Hell's Cousins, delivered muffins, picked up supplies, got a new necklace, and earrings, and was able to replace my aviators, and get some grocery shopping done. After lunch (I know, right?) I worked on my photogram kits, and sat down to write for an hour. Now, off to work. Tomorrow morning, after work, I'll run.
I maybe could have done this all over the weekend, but it would have been a struggle. I needed to be recharged, to let go, to relax. Today, I was (am?) my super-self. Tomorrow, I could possibly do it again.
No, I wasn't able to get out out more than a couple words when I saw that gorgeous man, I didn't remember everything on my list, and I ran out of some supplies, but so what? Tomorrow, I get to try again.