Friday is the most frustrating day of the week for me. I know that’s kind of backward but hey – this is me we’re talking about, here.
See, Friday is the day when all the stuff I’ve been pushing off because I’m doing my corporate thing all week starts to insist on being heard, and thought about. The day when the full-time suburban housewife and mommy whips around a corner with her arms full of laundry only to crash into the homesteading nut case carrying a sloshing bucket full of graywater who then gets rear-ended by the career woman who was too busy trying to make out the words on her itty-bitty Treo screen (because she can never find her glasses, ever) to notice she was about to crash into people (typical!) and then the owner of a teeny-tiny business zips along clutching forms and topples on top of all of us.
Furthermore, by Friday I have almost no GiveADang left. I’m tired, achy and feeling run-down and then I look at what-all I’ve got forty-eight tiny hours to do and I find myself really wondering if anything really matters all that much and maybe I could just, I dunno, ignore everything and perhaps little helper elves will come in the night and do all the shopping, cooking, cleaning, Denizen-pampering, laundry, ironing, gardening, car washing and checkbook balancing for me.
Still waiting, little helper elves…!
So then I start trying to find a finger I wouldn’t mind chopping off. Because obviously, something has to go, right? Right. So I start trying to figure out what something can not get done this weekend (or ever) and then I start to feel a bit like crying because friends, if I haven’t already moved it to the “how about never, does never work for you?” list, it’s probably because it can’t (or really shouldn’t) be moved.
But the good news is, I am so run down and achy and tired and meh by Friday night that I tend to just kind of flop. (I’ve tried to make this a rule, but every time I try to make something official it’s like the Universe just has to lay the smack-down on it…oh, Tuesday is ‘your’ night? SMACK! The husband now has deployment meetings Tuesday nights! You’re going to take Friday nights off? SMACK! “Something” is now an Every Saturday “Something” and if you don’t do every last thing on the list on Friday night, you will be doomed, dooooooooomed I say…!)
I make something painfully simple for dinner (like leftovers, gently simmered in mommy is busy reading on the Internets right now, sweetie, why don’t you ask Daddy about that sauce and served with a crunchy side of talk to the hand, I am blogging right now! with perhaps a delicious serving of cheap downloaded video game for dessert), and then goof off like there’s no tomorrow until I decide I want to go bed.
And then I take some of the Good Stuff (prescription pain meds for the back and hip, which otherwise have a way of keeping me awake at night – go figure) and go to bed. What a concept!
Then I don’t get up the next morning until I’m darned good and ready.
Or when the neighbor’s dogs all start barking.
Or WWIII breaks out downstairs because Boo Bug wants to watch cartoons but Danger Mouse wants to watch Wizards of Drama Pre-Teen Band Angst of Much Boyness.
Or when the neighborhood kids start galloping through the house because Fritter erroneously told them I was making cinnamon buns for breakfast (which has happened, like, twice in the last twelve years, but Fritter is nothing if not optimistic).
Or when Captain Adventure bursts into our bedroom shouting, “Hey mom-MEH, you hafta make-it mine hawt coh-CO-WAH!”
And then it is Saturday – a whole new day chockfull of hours in which to do stuff I want to do.
Like figuring out what happened to my summer squash. It was coming up beautifully up front and then this morning…it was gone.
Not like somebody picked it, but like somebody nibbled it.
My first thought is that we have ourselves a rabbit on the loose.
My second thought is that rabbits can make for darned good eating, and that one good nibble deserves another.
My third thought is that I talk a really tough story, but I’d love to see me actually catch and kill a rabbit. Heh. Yeah. That would make for some epic YouTube footage, yo.
…especially the part where I was getting the husband to build a hutch for our new pet wabbit-bunny-foo-foo-beans…