Good, good weekend, part 2

The nicest thing a person can do for me is let me vegetate on a Saturday morning.  I used to have way more energy 20 years ago, yea, even 10 years ago.  A 40 hour work week was no problem and much was accomplished on a weekend with enthusiasm and energy.  I was ready to roll.  Now I’m ready to roll over.  I can enjoy getting out of the house by noon but it won’t be enjoyable two weeks in a row unless I’m the one that scheduled it.  The involuntary scheduling leads only to wishing my next week away to get to the next opportunity to vegetate.

My pure definition of vegetate is to be free from criticism for not printing, crafting, or sorting, not laundering unnecessarily, not sanitizing, watering, or weeding anything — ok, just lump all outdoor bending and pulling into one drudgery — I’m a house plant, I admit it and by golly, I get to be after Mom’s garden, so deal.  Most of these will be done cheerfully if someone is invited over and/or I volunteer.

If it’s not voluntary, it’s pressure.  Tell me I have two hours to relax and I’m watching the clock, not relaxing.  Last Saturday morning and most of the afternoon was pressure free and free indeed, just what I needed.

And then the phone rang.  “Hey, it’s me.  Did you remember our date tonight?”

“Date? Oh, yeah! We’re using the free tickets and seeing Bond?  I’ll check the showtimes and get back to you.”

You’re thinking my freedom was interfered with and my vegetation ruined.  Nope.  Dates are good.  Free tickets are good.  Although the heel still hurt and I hobbled slowly, pulling hard on my escort’s arm, it was not a problem.  Did a little shopping too.  As I was paying for my special Dr. Bronner’s soap the closest of which is found at GNC, I asked how late the mall was open, hopefully 9:00.  What? 11:30?!?! You poor baby! “Yeah, tell me about it.”

We had time for a little Chinese cuisine in the food court, a side trip to the Sears tool section, and a hobble/shuffle to Penney’s children’s section.

Tune in soon for Flannel Jammies on the Highest Hook in the Clerk-Free Zone or White Women Can’t Jump.

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