This weekend was insane. Not the college kind of insane, where you spend the weekend partying and don’t remember it . . . not that I ever did that (honestly, sorry, I’m boring.) It was just insanely busy. I was barely home yesterday – I was over at my parents for part of the afternoon, then ran some errands (part of which, admittedly, included stopping at Zia Records, of course,) came home, then promptly left again to get dinner and go looking for new plants to take over for ones that are failing to live up to our expectations. And we spent a long time looking at those plants. Then it was home, Amanda in bed and just a short while later, us in bed. It’s hell getting old.
Today seems to have followed a similar pattern – I spent nearly all day outside planting the aforementioned plants and doing projects related to the yard, all of which were very, very tiring, then promptly ran out for pizza, and now we’re back home and ready to put Amanda to bed . . . and in just a couple hours, we’ll be getting ready for bed. It’s not fair. I’ve hardly had a weekend. I worked far harder the past two days than I do at work. What did I get paid for it? Nada! And now I’m SORE!
Not to mention that I woke up early this morning right out of the middle of a great dream – I was just about to eat a very delicious looking piece of cornbread. Broke a piece off, I could feel it slightly sticky and warm in my hands, I could smell it . . . I could almost taste it. And then I woke up. So rude.