The Weekend Recap

Friday, when I was done with my workday, I went to the gym. Because when you’re over 40 you either have to go to the gym to stay in shape or you’re blessed. I’m not blessed. People are always telling me that they don’t like going to the gym because people may look at them. Trust me. They are not looking at you; they are looking at themselves in the mirror and sizing themselves up to you. I look at people but not to size them up to wonder what their lives are like outside of the gym, but that’s probably just the writer in me. Sometimes, while on cruising away on the elliptical, I make up elaborate stories about the person next to me. I also check out how many miles they’ve done compared to how many miles I’ve done. It’s a good time. 

I usually, on Fridays, will also give myself some sort of spa facial while at the gym. After I’ve worked out, I go to the locker room and smear some Dead Sea blue mud all over my face and neck and sit in the sauna with my hair all tied up in a deep conditioning. I think this practice may bother some of the other women in the sauna. But some of them bother me when they insist on sitting with the light off and doing like 1000 squats. I’m trying to relax and these women are working out in a small dark room that's 180 degrees, while all I wanna do is read my New Yorker and listen to Ryan Adams and reflect on why I’m still not married.

After I was done at the gym, I booked home and got dressed so I could go to this new all-ages venue in Wichita to see my friend’s band, Bellafonte, play their last show. I decided to wear heels. This was a mistake. It was over 90 degrees in the venue and the floors were concrete. But, the band was amazing, and I will miss seeing them play. I was also reminded that my son’s friends are now in bands and now playing places I go and I felt old and odd, and kept thinking, “Who are all these kids? Where did they come from”?

Afterwards, my most recent ex wanted to hook up, but I was hot and tried and just went to bed.

Saturday, morning, I was woken up much too early by my landlord ‘fixing’ my back screen door. By fixing, I mean putting a new window into the already messed up door, but not replacing the screen on the top that is ripped. So basically not making the door any more usable and just confusing the damn cat as to why he can’t just jump back and forth at his will anymore.

(See not really fixed at all. Sigh)

Since I was awake, I went and saw a movie for the Tallgrass Film Festival. I sit on the screening committee and am suppose to see one movie a month, but somehow can’t keep that commitment. I’m working on it. While there, I had a conversation with a fellow committee member about minimum wage, and how he thinks it’s wrong and if we eliminated it then maybe restaurants would start hiring dishwashers again for $.50 an hour. I, for once, just bit my tongue and did not explain to him all the fallacies in that argument or inform him that I am a Sanders supporter. (Cat’s out of the bag there. I’m a Socialist. And, yes, for any of my current or former students who may be reading this blog—I do know that the ‘cat’s out of the bag' is a cliche. I teach you formal writing and this blog is totally informal.)

Afterwards, I went to the Value Center and walked around the thrift store aimlessly. I should never be allowed to wander aimlessly. All sorts of bad things can happen. Like I’ll buy a light blue shirt that three days later I won’t like. I also bought a pink and black vintage shirt that I do still like so it wasn’t all a loss.

Then, I went to the gym again, because why not. I did 21 miles this week, which isn’t bad, but not my 40-mile a week goal.

Sid, my one and only child, has been very sick since he came home from Chicago. He may have mono, but we’re not sure. He and I had been invited to dinner at my friend, Sandra’s, place and after much convincing he decided to join me for some of the best spaghetti and meatballs I’ve ever had (Sorry, Mama. Yours are still #1). He even showered before we went. And, because he showered, I felt the need to pull out a yellow and white vintage gingham shirt-dress and throw my hair up into a bun. It was a good choice. For someone who owes 39 dresses, I sure don’t wear any of them near enough. I’m working on changing that, but when you work from home most days, yoga pants are often the best office attire. We drank wine and caught up with two other friends and finished our meal with cherry pie and ice cream. Sandra has one of the best mid-century bathrooms I’ve ever been in. The walls are tiled in a perfect baby blue and the floor is white tile with small baby pink tile here and there. I was seriously jealous of her bathroom.

Yesterday, Sid was sick still, so I made him stay in bed all day. While he rested, I went on a hunt for a lounge chair to take camping next week with my godsons. I need a lounge chair so while the twin’s fish with their other godmother, Robin, their grandmother and I can sit and read and do nothing. I started this hunt at the Goodwill, and didn’t find a chair but did find the most beautiful and perfect red vintage dress.

(See. It is the prefect red dress)

I also went to Wal-Mart because I thought for sure they would have the type of chair I wanted and after wandering around for an hour looking for one, I finally found one that was way more than I wanted to pay. Thankfully, my sweet neighbor, Jane, sent me a text that she had found one at a thrift store for $3.98, but when she brought it home we realized it was broken. I’m not sure why a fold-able lounge chair is such a hard thing to find. It’s summer, shouldn’t they be everywhere?

Sid, being Sid and being sick, wanted cream of potato soup for dinner, and even though he’s not actually supposed to have any milk products because he’s extremely lactose intolerant, I gathered up all the ingredients and made him soup. It was 103 outside, but I peeled and sliced potatoes and stirred in heavy cream like it was December, because he is my one and only child and I will make him soup no matter how old he is when he’s sick. That’s love for sure.

Have a great week, Readers. Wear your sunblock. It’s gonna be a hot one fore sure.