White Picket Fences
June 11, 2007
Lately I’ve been caught up in this daydream. Pa and MaDucky are doing well on their own, and they’re financially stable. I’ve got my Masters degree and am happily working in an actual 9-5 job instead of my current 6-8, with lovely coworkers and a reasonable, sane boss. BoyDucky and I have finally gotten married and our cozy little home, where we hang out after work cooking dinner, drinking wine, and spend our weekends doing fun little couple-y things that we just can’t do as a LD couple. Maybe take some early morning walks holding hands, work on our house together, play with our dogs. Ahhh …. this weekend was such a rude awakening.
He came back this weekend for a Saturday night dinner I’d scheduled with my friends because the six of us haven’t spent time together for over a year. That was the official plan. Dinner, in the desert, my friends, Saturday night. Simple, easy, relaxed. Boy oh boy, did reality bite me in the you-know-where!!
Immediately after work on Friday, we went straight to our friends’ surprise birthday celebre. Foolishly, I’d assumed that it was a nice sit down restaurant sort of deal, so I was all dressed up for a sports bar. For three hours. I’ve got nothing against sports bars, but they’re really not my thing after a long day at work. By ten o’clock, BoyDucky and I left because he had practice the next morning and he’d only gotten three hours of sleep the night before.
Way too early Saturday, he worked with his team and I entertained myself for 3.5 hours. Then we had lunch “together,” aka: with the other coaches while they all talked about the rosters for the races next week. And talked. And talked. And talked. Two hours later, we went home for a shower and change of clothes. Far too short a time later, we were back on the road to my friend’s son’s graduation/birthday party for an hour so that he could meet my train friends, and then raced to the next friend’s house to carpool to our last stop for the night in the desert. We got home at 11:30 pm that night.
BoyDucky knocked on my door pre-dawn Sunday morning, and we were back out the door by 720 to carpool for another practice, and did the same reading-MsM, busy BoyDucky routine. I really could have slept in (booooy could I have slept in) except I was being the dutiful, patient girlfriend so that we could have lunch together. Oh but not together, “together.” We left that team lunch at 2pm, and got home for another round of showers, only to be greeted with “Get dressed, we have to go out again” as soon as I finished my shower. *groan* I was not feeling it. But I dragged myself into yet another pair of jeans, and we drove out to Pasadena to spend an hour with his best friend and his girlfriend. Then he drove us 40 miles to dinner with his brother and sis-in-law, 50 miles to drop me off, and another 50 miles to go back to his brother’s for the night.
All told, I think we put about 550 miles on that rental car this weekend. Ugh! If THIS is what being together and married life is going to be like, I gotta rethink some things. Back to back to back scheduling is insane! Can a girl get a weekend from the weekend or what?? These old bones just can’t take this kind of abuse anymore. ;P
What an exhausting weekend! I feel tired just reading about it!
~lowincomelady~ Now I’m compensating by forgetting everything we did and remembering everything I didn’t do: laundry & grocery shopping!