This is the story that never ends: Quatre
Read parts one, two and three
Ok, so where were we? Ahh yes. Thursday, well Friday now. But Friday is altogether forgettable, but in a good way. Sometimes I need average to appreciate things. Remember the curious incident of the fuck me boots? Well this is better. These are fuck me peep toe heels, that compliment my outfit and every outfit in my closet, quite well. A purchase that makes me praise the DSW Gods and not mind wearing a size 11. There was also a requisite trip to Friendly’s. And more visit with family that discouraged my liberal ways of being a vegetarian, who likes gay people, and believes strongly in the Democratic Party. I even have a donkey as a keychain. Word.
As you see, wonderfully mundane. And Saturday follows suit, except for a trip to Friday’s and a visit with a former AP Public Policy teacher. But once again, that’s something that I cannot discuss, lest you want to hear about that time my mother said ‘fuck’ and ‘asshole’ in the same sentence. The best part though would be the fact that I got my ass kicked in golf by a man with a heart condition. We’re talking about a man, who spent all of last Golf season bed ridden and strapped to an IV. My father beat me badly and in a way it brings tears to my eyes. Not because I only hit the ball like 30 yards at one point, but because last summer he almost died (like panic calls from my brothers, almost died) and now he can make a birdie and enjoy happy hour in the club house.
Now, the say bad things come in threes, but I feel like I’ve already hit the three marker and so now I might be headed towards double doses. But, I’m no punk and I can handle it. If you’re keeping score at home, so far my uncle has died, my aunt has been diagnosed with breast cancer and my grandfather has died. So that’s three right? You see three bad things there…but of course, what’s life if you don’t get thrown the occasional loop? My great-aunt, who was 95 also died. So that makes four, if I’m counting correctly. Which totally defies the laws of bad shit happening and like I said, I’m really fearing that we’re heading towards the number six.
Anyway, despite all that, I’ve come to the conclusion that I wish I had been home longer. I’ll probably never admit such a thing again and apparently after this admission hell will freeze over, but two days were certainly not long enough. I needed more time to veg and get my car interior and exterior washed for $15 and appreciate the wonder that is my mother’s strawberry delight and baked macaroni and cheese and to just sit around and get fat(ter) and lazy. It’s nice.
I guess that brings us to today (er, Monday) and my tiredness and the reason for why I limited myself to fruit and water. Because if you noticed, I went to Red Lobster, Friendly’s, Friday’s, Cinnabon (on the way back), macaroni and cheese, potato salad, pizza, a strawberry/cool whip/angel food cake concoction and oh yeah, a visit to the arch nemesis on the way up; and nary a gym visit in sight. So really, I spent a weekend trying to become an eating contest contestant and wondering how much it takes for me to gain back 14 lbs. Let it be known that if I were to enter myself in such a contest, I would totally kick ass.