ďIf I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden.Ē - Claudia Ghandi
This quote would apply to M.s., whom I canít seem to get out of my mind today (which is nothing new). I think itís been quite a few days since Iíve written, so letís see if we canít squeeze out a little update here.
My weekend was completely relaxing, with its moments of fabulousness Ė I bought myself a new wardrobe AND five new pairs of shoes. There is no better therapy than a few days of shopping. Friday night I relaxed with My man, dinner and oh so many hours of sleep. Saturday, after hours of playfulness with M.s., Spider Monkey joined me on a shopping spree! Clothes for all occasions, mostly casual with a few mix-and-match pieces for work. Saturday night, I relaxed with M.s. again, we watched my favorite movie, The Color Purple.
Sunday morning I was subjected to Shithead (tomorrow is my LAST class for two months!) We met with our school group, and I got a few digs in. How dare he have audacity to critique any paper when it looks as if he plagiarized Jane & Spot to write his section!?! I was pleasantly frustrated when he left, commiserating with a friend and schoolmate, when we decided to do some shoe-shopping to lift our spirits. And shoe-shop we did, as you read above. Shoes for every occasion, mostly casual.
After my shoe-shopping high, I craved some pampered relaxation. I took a long shower, put on some new clothes and headed to Art Nails. A manicure, a pedicure and a massage later, I felt magnificent. I did a load of laundry and watched Moulin Rouge, and finally, even more relaxed after a good movie-inspired cry, I met back up with M.s. to run some errands. I saw and HEARD the amazing speakers he recently designed (am I right, are those recent?). Wow. Such a talented man.
This morning I was informed that the HMFICís father died yesterday morning. Here, I struggle with my emotions. No, no, not the type youíre thinking. I didnít really know the man, he was just about 90 and lived a full, accomplished life, so Iím not in mourning. I know this is hard for the family, hard for people around here, but the first thing I thought when I heard the news was, ďAwesome, I have a day off!Ē Thursday is the funeral, and our office will be closed. So when I say that Iím struggling with emotions, what I mean is I am wondering just how selfish I am that the first thing I feel upon news of a death is elation over the knowledge that I will be getting a day off of work. Evil.
This is not my loss, this is my gain. But I wonder, is it wrong to think of it that way? Isnít it natural to enjoy news of a day off, even if someone had to die for me to get it? No, wait, that didnít sound right. But you get me. Iím done struggling with those emotions. I donít want to spoil my excitement of having the day off by lamenting the cause of this anticipated benefit. See the sarcastic irony? And realize, please, if only to know me just that much better, that I find this last paragraph exceptionally humorous.
Now you understand the depth of my sickness. Time for this cold, selfish bitch to get to work and really earn that day!