Sunday, May 29, 2005 greatly enjoys repetitive tasks
This morning some housies and I went to the farmer's market under the overpass, and I was so glad to be back. Turns out it's been open for the past three Sundays or something, but we didn't get the memo. Everybody was thinking June first, but that doesn't make sense. Last year I moved down here the week before Memorial Day, and after the big summer party, some of us woke up and went.
Today a guest came with us, and she tried to get us to go get coffee and donuts first, and then to make a clockwise loop around to all the stalls. I just don't understand what's with people. We go counter-clockwise, like reasonable human beings. Coffee (optional) and donuts come last. The donut guys cook the donuts in a vat of bubbling fat right before your eyes. Boys receive six tiny donuts in their orders. Girls get seven.
Soon, it will be time to go back to sleep. I'm weak and stupid this morning, and my hair is unkempt. I'm really enjoying my weekend off. I don't have to go to work tomorrow, either: I get an actual three-day weekend. All day on Friday, people called the beauty parlor looking for Saturday appointments, and when I told them we'd be closed for the holiday, they wailed and moaned and got a bad case of the OMGs. Huff, huff. How dare you?
It's nice, sometimes, to know that people are going to respond in the same way to the same thing over and over again. The situation where one comes up with the perfect comeback hours later and kicks oneself all day doesn't come up in the workplace for me, because I get to say what I should have said again mere seconds after I think of it. People would react, and I tailored a casual little speech, "Oh, yes, we're getting the holiday weekend off..."
I think I kept it casual, but I do know that by the end of the day, people were apologizing to me, so perhaps the fire in my soul began to influence my phone voice a little bit.
Last night I even did something authentically holiday weekendish and roasted marshmallows over a fire. My boyfriend* has these fun friends who are always having parties and after parties and get-togethers and stuff, and sometimes they set things on fire, and it's great. Nobody rocks like the suburbs, for real.
*(Damn!) posted by Frenz | 5/29/2005 12:00:00 PM
0 comments
|
