Friday

You know it's Friday because you wake up feeling like you went on a major bender the night before, and and that is because you did.

I guess because of church choir, Thursday nights became the designated night out for singers in Baltimore.

I was lucky enough to meet up with a couple friends for a super terrific happy hour, at my fave local japanese place, where I ate two three dollar appetizers and then somehow managed to run into one of the most ridiculous gay friends I have on the street. He refused to stop talking and made Ms. N late to the performance she was attending. Then, I was supposed to walk Ms. S down to get gelato, but suddenly I had to pee so horrifically and the bathroom at the gelateria was occupied. So I ran home and made her miss her whole opportunity for gelato. And I feel pretty bad about that. I should probably just wear depends. That way I could avoid these types of situations.
Then, even after two appetizers, I made Joe dinner and managed to eat A LOT of it myself, like a big idiot and despite feeling like I did a very noble thing by cooking such a delicious dinner for my husband, I felt quite large and enormous because I basically ate two dinners. He was glued to the TV watching the preseason football game, and so I could not talk him into going out again later, when the girls texted that they were meeting up at another place. There was no way he would have left. It is the most sacred time of year: the beginning of football. I suspect it was designed specifically so that teachers who are dreading going back to school and may have otherwise done themselves a harm have something else to focus on and look forward to as they live in these final August weeks of dread.

So my goal for this weekend is two fold: get some exercise and practice lots. I need to make bread, too. The grocery store bread this morning just didn't cut it.