It sounds like blasphemy, I know. It feels like blasphemy. But this weekend really hasn't been any better than a work day. In fact, since I spent a good chunk of today working, it's been as close to a workday as it probably could be.
You know what the highlight of my weekend was? I feel pretty confident in making this proclamation, since there's not much time left in this weekend. I mean, what's going to happen? The Money Fairy pops in and drops a bag of cash in my lap? Um ... I can't even think of anything ridiculous to say here.
Anyway, the highlight of my weekend. It was going to my nephew's playoff football game and hanging out with my family. Really? I was talking to The Boy I Currently Like this afternoon and telling him that I couldn't figure out if it was genuinely a good time or the rest of my weekend was so abjectly shitty that it just seemed that much better than everything else. I honestly don't know.
Sadly, the prospect of starting another week seems better than having any more of this weekend. It means that there is another weekend coming up. There seem to be a couple of sunny days in the forecast. We're having a potluck at work on Friday. I should get to see The Boy. We didn't see each other this weekend because he had a shit week, too, and didn't want to have that color his time with me. It sucks that we deal with a shitty week in different ways (I think hanging out with him would have taken some of the shitty sheen off my week), but no one wants to hang out with someone who would rather be alone. I feel like an asshole for not being more understanding, but Jesus H. Christ, my hormones were making me a fucking crazy person. I should be glad I didn't go bitchcakes on him.
Oh! There's more. I'm taking tomorrow afternoon off. For my mammogram. You may think it's sad, but a few minutes of squashed tits is much, much more preferable than work.