Who knew I’d look so good as a time traveler?
For some reason, the Labor Day Weekend is one that almost never works out for me. Much like New Years, I look forward to it for weeks and then amCOMPLETELY disappointed when it actually gets here. I don’t know why this happens; it’s just part of my universe, I guess.
This year, however, was a pleasant surprise. I think the main reason it worked out so well is that I had absolutely no idea it was coming. My brain has been so full of other stuff that I had pretty much no idea that this weekend was anything other than THE SEASON 7 PREMIER OF DOCTOR WHO.
So, with my mind focused strictly on Science Fiction, I had completely forgotten that I had friends who were actually getting a long weekend. This means that two of my kick-butt lovely lady-friends were available to make my weekend totally awesome. One of them (let’s call her She-Ra) spent almost the entire weekend with me, while the other (and let’s call her Jem) came down Saturday night to join us for a nerd-tastic premier party. My parents were out of town this weekend, too, so we totally tore the place up. (Psssshhhhhhh.)
Oh, man, it was great. We ate fancy schmancy food that She-Ra brought from Trader Joe’s, and gorged ourselves on Pumpkin Chocolate Chip cookies that Jem brought. I swear, sparkly unicorns must shoot out of her fingers when she’s baking.
Charlie even happily played Play-Doh with us while we watched Daleks and beautiful eyebrow-less men frolic about on-screen
(Oh my gosh, you two. How did we not end up making Daleks out of Play-Doh!?)
Anyway, it was awesome. And that means that when everybody left and it was just Charlie and me, I definitely experienced some letdown. I’ve got one week before we head back to the big city, and I can see the hours beginning to slow waaaayyyy down.
I can’t believe it’s been over 2 months since this whole ordeal began, and we are this freaking close to having a home. A home in which we all live together. Where we will actually have an office to work from, a washer and dryer in our house that we don’t put coins into, and a routine (however elusive and mysterious it may seem right now) to fall into.
The clock is ticking, and it is dragging. I know that in the grand scheme of things, 12 days isn’t that big of a deal, but flippin-A, I’m ready to have a home. And I’m sure my parents are ready to have their home back.
Now, if I could only get my hands on a time-traveling blue box, I’d be all set