Friday: Work, fresh flowers on the table, homemade lasagna for dinner, couch time, watching Superbad, going to bed way before midnight.
Saturday: Up at 6. Breakfast at Pannekoeken Hus, which I hadn’t visited in far too long. Composed a song about my breakfast which contained lyrics like “meat in my skillet makes me so happy”. Headed to Canterbury Park to watch some horse races. Ran into two former co-workers. Got sunburnt. Bet on slow ponies. Came home. Celebrated Jenni’s birthday with grilling, drinking, and Guitar Hero action. Came home, showered, and at some point passed out.
Sunday: Slept in. Had brunch at The Independent for Jenni’s actual birthday. (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DUDE.) Drove to Fairbault to pick up The Boy. Went to the dog park. Had dinner at McDonald’s.
And now I’m about five minutes away from crashing somewhere hard. The sun zapped a ton of energy out of me yesterday, and I never fully re-hydrated before draining the tequila supply that Jenni and Matt brought back from Mexico recently. That means today, I’m cranky, still burned by the sun, and headache-y.
The only person I really want to be around right now is at home with a cold, which probably means I’ll be catching it in the next couple of days.