Weekend Plans: The Guilt Edition

Well, I’ve edited a whole four pages since coming in to work this morning, so time to take a break and plan my weekend activities. Nothing too exciting; I left my hovel last weekend for a trip home and a visit with friends and family. After all that socializing, I need to recover.

Friday Night
What I Should Do: Go to the gym for yoga or a run. Put on a load of laundry. Curl up with a library book that is due in a week.
What I Want to Do: Take a nap. Watch a few episodes of Alias and indulge in my growing crush on Bradley Cooper. Take Rowen for a walk just before it gets dark. Watch a few more episodes of Alias while eating leftover Chinese takeout.* Go to sleep early.

Saturday
What I Should Do: Go in to work to make up a few hours and catch up on some way overdue editing. Take Rowen to the dog park. Go grocery shopping. Clean the bathroom, kitchen, and Rowen’s crate. Change the sheets on my bed. Finish an op-ed that’s overdue. Read the library book. Go to the UT game party at E’s house.
What I Want to Do: Sleep in. Take Rowen to the dog park. Get brunch at Starbucks. Sit on the balcony and read a different library book. Nap. Go to the bookstore to read the gossip magazines. Watch I Capture the Castle** while working on a cross-stitch.

Sunday
What I Should Do: Take Rowen for a walk. Go to the gym. Pay my bills. Give Rowen a bath.*** Finish the laundry. Study for the GREs. Make a dessert for dinner on Monday. Go to mass. Call my parents.
What I Want to Do: Take Rowen for a walk. Take Rowen to the groomer for a bath. Take a nap. Find a coffee shop where I can sit outside, sip an iced tea, and read. Pick Rowen up. Snuggle with my soft, clean puppy. Make a dessert for dinner on Monday. Watch more Alias while finishing the Chinese takeout leftovers. Snuggle with my puppy again.



*I ordered Chinese takeout from my regular place last night. Part of my order wasn't delivered. Just as I was getting ready to call the place to tell them that they had forgotten part of the order and ask if they can adjust the charge to my credit card, the phone rings. It’s the delivery man. He said that he had forgotten a second bag his car (I don't eat that much, but to reach the minimum order amount I have to get a week's worth of food) and that he could either bring it to me or give me credit on my next order. Well, this isn’t some big chain; it’s not much more than a hole in the wall. They don’t keep your phone number and address in a computer so that they recognize you the next time you call (which kind of creeps me out, especially when the answer the phone saying your name). And I only order from them about once every 3 or 4 weeks. The chances of me getting my credit are slim to none, and slim’s on the next train out of town (thank my father for that bad joke). So I ask the guy to come back. The restaurant is only about a five minute drive from me and he’s probably going to pass right by my apartment on his way to or from another delivery. Well, he gets all mad at me and starts in on what an imposition it would be to make another delivery. All I want is what I paid for and I’m not even asking him to go way out of his way. So why is it that I feel like a total bitch?

**Not exactly a great movie, but it’s got Marc Blucas and the kid from E.T. in it.

***I love the place where I took her for boarding: wide, open spaces for her to run free, play with other dogs, swim, and roll around in the dirt. And at $10/day, I can’t complain about the price. But would it have been so hard for them to hose her off before I picked her up? She is nasty dirty.