I made the mistake of watching the trailer for the latest zombie flick on my way home from work. Now I feel as though I have ants crawling over all me. I should go for a run--everyone was asleep when I got home from work, providing me the optimal window in which to do so--but I hadn't even eaten anything yet today, so I voraciously wolfed down a tuna fish sandwich with apples and sunflower seeds using the tuna fish Elise had left in refrigerator as soon as I walked in the door. I need to do something to shake the horrid images from my brain.
Knowing I can't go for a run, I write this hoping my kids will wake up soon. I have never consciously wished this before. In our daily routine it is incredibly rare, almost unheard of for all three to nap at the same time. It is like a cosmic syzygy, Saturn, Neptune, and Jupiter and their fifty-nine moons all aligning. But at this instance all I want is distraction.
That's not true. I am distracting myself by writing this; all I want is to hear their laughter. I'm glad it's Friday.
I am glad it's Friday for a number of reasons, perhaps the least of which is I feel I am the only one at my work who doesn't carry around a five gallon jug of water around with them at all times. Anyone of my coworkers is eminently prepared should they instantly and mysteriously find themselves dropped in the middle of the Gobi Desert. While I understand their desire to remain hydrated, every time I go to the drinking fountain I have to wait for someone to fill their Camelbak, water bottle or tea pot.
It's things like this that I wouldn't normally notice much less be bothered by, but on a Friday they infuriate. It means I need to play outside.
So, as they say in Chennai, "Nalla nee-aa-roo sun-nee. (Happy Saturday Sunday)." But know, too, "'Weekend' is just 'weekend'. Everyone in Chennai say, 'weekend.'"
So, Happy Weekend.