It's kind of ironic that I was really into working this weekend when I came in (in order to get overtime) and now that I'm here on Monday, when I'm supposed to be working, I could care less about working. First thing this morning I sat down and completed something I really needed to finish. But since then....I've been reading blogs and chatting, waiting for my weekend to start. Is it Saturday yet?
I do not recommend working both days on a weekend. I'm exhausted. As much as I like being in here when it's quiet and I can concentrate, nothing disguises the fact that it's still a Saturday and I am not out having fun...I am at work. And in order to tell myself I still had somewhat of a weekend, I went out both nights in order to convince myself the days were not wasted. But as a result, I could barely drag myself out of bed this morning.
Friday night T and I went out to a bar that at one point in time, we had claimed would become "our bar." We hadn't been back there since then, and that was over a year ago. It was still just as fun, in fact, more so than the last time. We met up with a friend of hers that we didn't even know would be there, and we ended up dancing to funk that was being played from vinyl. What a great night. We had to force ourselves to leave, the great music wouldn't stop but we had to. Not only were we tired from the unexpected dancing, we were nearly suffocated from the smoke in the place. March 1st will not get here soon enough.
Sunday, while at work, I got a call from K telling me to come outside. He had been gone all weekend, and I hadn't seen him since Tuesday the week before. I look around the corner and he was walking down the street with roses in his hand. Before this I had been one of those people who believed roses are totally overdone and cliche...but now I'm thinking it's because I had never been given them before. They are so beautiful. And yay for him for not choosing boring roses, but he bought the variagated ones that have deep pink interlaced in the red. Now, I'm not saying I'd choose them on a regular basis. But out of the blue, I'll take roses any day.
Oh, I finally got a call from the insurance company of the guy who hit me and they're going to pay for everything...including a deep-tissue massage for my back that is still in pain. The best part is they're sending me a check for the damage. Not the auto-shop, but ME. I can live with my console sticking out, right? Hey, my stereo is that much closer to me. I'm sure with a little force I can stick it back in. I'll just wait until I'm nice and angry about something, like my windshield wipers, and I'll be able to push it in with my pinky finger.
Ok, now is it Saturday?