My vacation - my staycation, if you must and I suppose you must - is over. This is just a Sunday like any other Sunday and I have to clean the entire house, make food for a week, do the laundry and all those fun Sunday chores that I've been neglecting. Bah. Pooh. Humbug. And so on. This sucks and I have to get up early tomorrow morning and go to work and resume my day to day existence. Well, I suppose it's good for me. Builds moral fiber and all that shit. Meanwhile, my car is now at the Saturn dealership (who quoted me $300 less than the other mechanic who I will not name but I am not enthused about them to put it mildly) after much travail and multiple phone calls on Friday morning. It's all fucked up. It's a good thing I didn't go nuts and rent a house on the beach last week - every penny I would have spent is now going into my car. Great. Faboo. Heavy sigh. I'm doing my part for the economy, fuckers.
On Friday night S came over and we drank too much beer and hung way too many pictures up in the newly painted kitchen. Yesterday evening I took most of them down after realizing on sober reflection that there's no point to painting your kitchen yellow orange if you're then going to completely hide the walls with portraits of your ancestors. I have far too many ancestors anyway, so I left up only the truly weird looking ones and a couple of artsy shots - well, artsy, if artsy means taken at one of those tourist trap costume places in Cherokee - of the kids. Some of these old pictures are a bit unnerving, if truth be told: I want to believe that the whole 1880s family - from my Mom's side, I think, very bearded and long skirted and totally solemn - moved during the probably half hour exposure which is why their heads are so, um, elongated, but S merrily told me that no, it was just that I'm related to Eraserhead. Eeee. I've never noticed anyone alive in the family with a head like that and thank the gods that my children didn't take after them. And I also decided that having my parents hanging in the kitchen was not going to do one thing for their eternal rest, what with the spinning and all, or my own peace of mind since I'd have to be always apologizing. I love you, Mom & Dad, but you're going into some quiet corner somewhere. Sorry about that.