There was so much I wanted to get tonight, before the Weekend From Hell begins. The WFH isn’t a bad thing, far from it. Tomorrow, we get to watch the daughter of two of our best friends graduate from high school. Tell me that isn’t worth driving to Denver at oh-dark-thirty.
Friday, we — finally — get to start spending the HELOC money on our kitchen. With a bit of luck, it will be finished before the big Independence Day Bash. Followed, of course, by the Blogger Bash that night. (For those keeping score, that’s two trips to Denver in two days.)
Saturday? BBQ with the in-laws. Sunday, another BBQ with the Dinner Party Gang. Monday is. . . I forget what Monday is, but I’m pretty sure it involves fixing all those dead spots on the lawn. The drought wreaked hell on us last year.
But tonight I’d planned to do some real work. Write up a glowing Amazon review on Virginia Postrel’s new book. Write next month’s food column for GX magazine. Put the finishing touches on an Alternate History essay I’ve been working on all week.
If you must know, the essay looks at What Might Have Been if Alexander of Macedon had lived five more years, to the ripe old age of 38. I wrote most of the thing on Monday, and have spent the last couple of nights poking holes in it, trying to make it suitable for public consumption.
(Did I claim I’m on summer vacation this week? I don’t know from vacation. We have got to get our not-nearly-tan-enough asses down to Mexico before we go insane.)
Anyway, none of the things I wanted to get done tonight got done, because. . . well, I’ve been working my ass off my entire pseudo-vacation, and one night off won’t stop the world from turning.
Have a happy, pleasant, and friend-filled Memorial Day weekend. I’ll see you on Tuesday.