Why do people insist on trying to make me do shit when I actually have a day off work?
Granted, I did get to sleep in until 2, pretty impressive until you consider the fact I was up until 5. After several failed attempts of "C'mon now, it's time to get up" while sending three dogs sailing on to the bed, I was finally handed a cup of coffee and a cigarette which at least got me in an upright position.
Once I had sufficient levels of caffeine and nicotine in my system to function properly it dawned on me that I didn't have a damn thing I had to do today and I began to look forward to a leisurely day spent in my robe, book in hand, laptop, appropriately enough, in my lap.
Oh but wait, I've got laundry to put up and bills to do 'cause I didn't bother over the weekend....drag myself to the desk where I begin sorting through the piles...bills that must be paid to have roof and utilities, bills that can be put off for another week if absolutely necessary and the ever-growing pile of medical bills I will probably never be able to afford to pay. Run the figures, write the checks, realize the car insurance is late (damn DMV is sure to throw in an extra $50 on that one) and drink some more coffee. Go through the pile of medical bills to at least get them prioritized, doctors I never plan on seeing again get shuffled to the bottom while doctors responsible for my current and future care quickly slide to the top.
*Heavy sigh....Grumble about the healthcare racket...Grumble that it's a damn shame my life seems to be nothing more than columns of debits and credits, with the credits never being quite enough....Smoke another cigarette, finish my coffee and vow to start hunting for a better job, writing fellowships, whatever, anything that will change the current course.*
Get the laundry put up, staunchly refuse to begin a top to bottom house-cleaning campaign....phone rings...but I can't even attempt to answer it. We have two cordless phones in the house — one that has been sucked up by that same pesky vortex in which single socks and important scraps of paper disappear and another that refuses to hold a charge long enough to say "hello, why are you calling me on my day off?"
The missing and presumed deceased phones worked to my advantage though. By agreeing to go on a family outing to the big city to get a phone that will actually fulfill its intended purpose, I got out of having to go to the other big city to add my presence to the masses of people oohing and ahhing at the fireworks display. Let's see, go sit in a crowd of people, listening to children scream and watching happy couples cuddle or pile into the SUV and head to Wal-Trap to get a device to allow me to communicate with a bunch of people I don't want to talk to anyway? How much more American can you get? *rolls eyes*