You ever write down thoughts about your life and where you want to go with it? I do. But only once every five years. I’m lazy that way. Well, I recently read something I wrote ten years ago. Guess what? Nothing has changed. This is sad, if not surprising. So likewise I just re-read my first posting of this blog from just over a year ago (I planned to do it on the one year anniversary of my blog, but like I said, I’m lazy). Guess what? Nothing has changed. Once again: sad, not surprising.
I could almost copy that post and paste it here. But I won’t. I’m not that lazy. Or am I? Hopefully you’re too lazy to go back and check. So once again it’s Labor Day. Seems like only a year ago that I was doing the same thing: going to a barbecue I don’t want to go to. For one thing, my family will be with me. You know my daughter who went off to college? Well, she came home for the long weekend. I was so excited when she told me she was coming home and now I’m counting the seconds till she goes back. When she got home we hugged, then that was the end of the good. I’m pretty sure she’s not talking to me, but I don’t want to find out I’m wrong, so I’m keeping a low profile. She really doesn’t want to go to this barbecue, but my wife is making her (I was FINE with her not coming) and so she hates us.
My son? Well, he’s willing to deign us with his presence for 47 minutes. Not kidding, that’s exactly what he said. But then I’m expected to leave the barbecue (yay) and drive him to a friend’s whom I don’t know (as Joy Behar would say, or rather SNL’s Fred Armissen as Joy Behar would say: “So what? Who cares?”). I complain about it so he can feel good about putting me out. I’m considerate that way. But also so I can escape the barbecue. Oh. I forgot to mention how I hate almost everyone who’s going to be there. Hate is a strong word. That’s why I used it!
I actually like the host. And his wife. The guy is the most amazing barbecuer. He says “cuer,” but I cut him some slack. But his friends? His relatives? BORING!!! I won’t bore you with the boring things they talk about, but it’s an excruciating kind of boring.
I know I’ll get through it. I know I’ll enjoy the food. I know my daughter will hate me until the second she leaves and asks for money. I know I might “accidentally” forget to pick up my son. But all I’ll really be doing this loooooonnnnng weekend is dream of Tuesday, when I can get back to the sanctuary of my desk. Labor Day is a celebration of the workers, right? So let me get the heck back to work! Happy Labor Day. Hope yours will be better than mine. Good chance of that happening.