Weekends

When I was a child I actually used to dread the weekends. No, you did not read that wrong. See the thing is, I was an only child. Even worse, I was an only child that changed schools (if not entire towns) every two years, pretty much like clockwork. So, you can imagine that I 1) did not have many friends and 2) had no one at home to play with when I was bored except dolls and my mom. Now my mom is a patient woman but there is only so much "playing" a woman in her late-thirties or early-forties can endure with a child right? I can't even imagine really.

So, in an odd twist of fate I used to dread Friday afternoons and I absolutely LOVED Monday mornings. Friday afternoons promised nothing more than endless TGIF on TV (thank you Full House) and hours of reading in my room by myself. You can see why as a child I was prone to such odd tendencies as sectioning off our kitchen to play "chef" with my parents' breakfast, or constructing outfits out of paper grocery bags. Ahem. Though on a positive note, I believe that THIS is why I have always been an avid reader. Silver lining indeed. On the flip side Monday mornings meant an entire week's worth of learning (huge dork!) and also at least some contact with people my own age. Even if it was awkward and painful.

Thankfully at some point around High School I managed to collect a few friends AND some outside of school interests so I began to look forward to the weekends like most normal people. Once I started working it was even better because I could finally complain (with a valid reason) about having to get up early for work and so on. Weekends were filled with shopping trips with the girls or parties at some one's house or (later) going out dancing until the wee hours. Monday mornings meant suits and contracts and hours upon hours in front of a computer monitor. Finally I was normal.

But lately I've begun dreading the weekends again and looking forward to Mondays. I'd like to think that it is mostly because I love my new job and finally can look forward to going to work because there is fun stuff to do there and I'm fairly good at it. Sadly I know that the loving work thing isn't really the entire reason I dread the weekends. If I'm being honest, it probably has more to do with the fact that it is now almost 3 pm on a Saturday and so far today I have worked out, done laundry, cleaned the bathrooms and run errands. You can see this is not as exciting as my earlier days of dancing or shopping with friends. In fact, today it has gotten so bad that I've resorted to doing chores I NEVER do (like removing everything off shelves and washing them, with soap and water(!), before spraying them with the wood cleaner/polisher and then putting everything back) just so I will have something to do to occupy my time.

And I know I COULD do something about it. But I really don't want to drive an hour to meet up with friends for an hour. That math doesn't compute in my brain (1 hour there, 1 hour of fun, and 1 hour home). And they. likewise, don't feel like driving an hour to come hang out with me for an hour. So here I sit, stalking people on Facebook, as I wait for the dryer to turn off so I can throw another load of laundry in and wait for it to be Monday.

I told you people I was complicated and you wouldn't understand.