On a day off I wake up incredibly cranky. By 11am I've cleaned all the dead flowers out of the apartment, dusted, tended to my plants,* planned dinner, answered emails and feel incredibly unsatisfied. What am I going to do today?? I apply sunscreen. Consider walking down to fairway to return a moldy yogurt. It's probably crowded. Forget it. It's probably full of people buying hot dogs and charcoal and elbowing each other at the olive bar. Children screaming, strollers. Maybe I could buy a bike. I peruse craigslist for all of two minutes and decide it's not worth it. I want a bike right now, this second. If I had one, I'd consider riding it to Court Street to buy some roasted artichoke hearts at Caputo's. Their probably closed anyway. Damnit!!
Eric reminds me that a day off is supposed to be lazy. We eat a boiled egg.
*lets hear it for this little begonia, a testament to my talent for coxing desperate plants back from the edge. he's thriving, and we're just so proud