All my weekend plans were dashed, because Southwest Airlines canceled daughter #1’s flight and there was nothing else available until Sunday night that didn’t cost $1500.
I tried to rally myself, but was pretty unsuccessful. The OM and I ventured out to Franklin County to stock up on fireworks, which we did, but it was in a rainstorm, so, not much fun.
In fact, the whole weekend was a washout, literally and figuratively. Indeed, it rained all weekend.
Saturday night I watched 21 Jump Street AND 22 Jump Street in a sad attempt to amuse myself.
Channing Tatum did the trick, but the effects were fleeting. Sunday night I tried again with My Blue Heaven (1990) and Uncle Buck (1989).
Sigh. Monday morning I got up to watch the V.P. 4th of July Parade on television, only to find out that it had taken place on Saturday morning. Oops.
Thank goodness the boy and daughter #3 came over for the obligatory 4th of July bar-b-que.
We ate burgers and watermelon and then we drove over to the high school to watch the local flyover fireworks display.When we got home we shot off the fireworks we had bought on Saturday. I felt much better–alls well that ends well, as they say.
And you know what else they say:
Depression is boring, I think
and I would do better to make
some soup and light up the cave.*
Now it is Tuesday and the work week has begun. Oh joy.
*The quote is from the poem “The Fury of Rain Storms” by Anne Sexton.