I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but weekends even in retirement have their own aura – the barely-discernible pace slows, and the party mood amplifies. There are nights when we stay up past midnight and have not two vodka tonics but three, possibly more – are there no fences anymore whatsoever? Makes me a little wistful …
I’m currently without adult supervision as Kimmers is out walking, taking advantage of the cool, crisp morning air while he stretches his legs and thinks his own thoughts. I’m doing things, too, of course. I made the bed and…I made the bed. Because weekends are different in that they contain no residual guilt over the perks of voluntary unemployment. I’m happy as a big sunflower, sitting here in my own company, bedhead extraordinaire, coffee on endless spigot, playing my music, IM-ing my insolently profane girlfriends, and eating goldfish. It’s a high all its own that rarely gets better. I didn’t say never, I’m neither stupid nor a fossil.
A fun thing I like to do on weekends is rummage through old photos, either in boxes or my online files. Some could embarrass friends or family, but is that not what social media is all about? I’m sayin’! I love this one…my cousin Bruce and me in our grubby training pants…he’s ready for a nap and I’m pretty sure I just tried eating a bug, the other two choices, of course, being Milk Dud or turd. See more about my cousin here: So Healthy It Makes Me Sick
Enjoy your weekend to the max, boys and girls! And if you have to work … gah, sucks to be you.