Sure. I’ll wake up early and go to the gym. I won’t excuse myself for there being too many people.
It’s nine in the morning.
Gym in the afternoon it is! Instead, I’ll practice my guitar, which is what I say each time my co-workers ask me, “So, what did you do for the weekend?” so I won’t seem boring.
“Oh, I was practicing my chords, you know. Trying to practice my finger dexterity.”
“Sounds awesome! When are you going to play something for us?”
Chuckling nervously, “Eh, um, yeah, sure. One of these days I’ll put on a whole show for the office and charge tickets. Maybe you can be my singer?”
On weekdays I can’t stand the fact we can’t wear jeans to work, yet today, I stand once more in front of the closet, staring at the pile of colors and cloth limply lying on the corner. It’s Sunday and I just want to take a nice walk to stretch my short legs and maybe practice on my gait (minimize the bounce by 20%). Jeans are out of the question. With this warm humid weather, the fabric will uncomfortably stick to my thighs; I’ll barely walk to the corner. Well, maybe a skirt or better yet, a dress! I’d hate to waste brain power on coordinating which shirt goes with this skirt. However, I need a decent dress apt for an hour walk. Nothing fancy, I mean.
I turn on the music as I get ready, but as I am finishing up I cannot move. The song is not yet over and I want to sing along. I wait, sitting on the floor and muttering lyrics. The next song comes up and it’s one of my all time favorites! I cannot resist the urge to sing along, so I relax and lay on the floor. Five songs later I realize it’s already eleven and I am getting hungry.
Feeling guilty, I decide on breakfast before ice cream.
As I make my way for the door, there is a loud, but friendly knock on the door. They politely wait for a substantial pause before knocking twice. Looking into the peephole, I spy three small women in long skirts with a man in a suit clutching two bibles. Unable to deal with them at the moment, I sit back down and watch YouTube videos. Not bothering to check if they’ve gone, I roll over to keep my hand from fatigue.
Enjoying the show, I laugh, but somehow there is something missing. Remembering, I go to the fridge and pick the leftover ice cream from a week ago. Cool and refreshing, I move to the table and enjoy my cookies and cream ice cream, laughing my head off.