So, I was expressing earlier my discontent with the schedulization (yes, I made this word up. Deal with it) of my life and how I would be happier if I could just get out of this rut.
Well, Tuesday started with a slight hangover due to the de-schedulization of Monday. I picked my hubby up and we went to a bar where we had about three drinks and then cabbed it home.
Was there anything particularly exciting about this bar?
No. The bartender was actually sort of annoying and had that personality that relied on corny jokes, timing and the incessant need to hear the sound of his own voice.
Did I set out to go?
Again, no. It just sort of happened. I was starving and would have been content at my local neighborhood bar. I didn't need to drink but I did need to eat and since I'm no posh-upper west side kind of gal, all I know to eat on a Monday after work is bar/grill.
What this action did do was allow to me to break free from the constraints of Monday. That shackling, brutal beating of a Monday and allowed me to substitute that day for a Thursday night. Sans obliteration.
It felt good. And I did have enough vitamin water that night to enjoy the fact that Tuesday was just another groggy sort of morning.
Now, I might have done something slightly heroic in my opinion - for who dares to defy the mundane brain-washing tactics of Monday, the God of the work week - but I may have pissed off the weather Gods because the next day was unbearably hot, yesterday was heavy with the the threat of rain and today looks like the beginning of the Apocalypse. The first sign of a frog and I'm outta here.
Mood: Indifferent :
Music: Bell X1 (in my head)