OMG, not another holiday weekend?! These are a special kind of torture for me. Pressure, I can't stand the societal pressure to grill. A grill must symbolize something, but what? It also begs blowing up the house because of my complete ineptitude with large equipment. If I had a handy dandy barbeque I'd have to invite people over which requires cleaning and appetizers. This sounds less and less like a celebration and more like pergatory. Shouldn't a holiday really be where you sit around alone in a messy house, reading back issues of "People", eating potato chips out of the bag and drinking wine from a plastic cup? No cheeriness required. This also eliminates the risk of ptomaine/salmonella from nasty yet traditional holiday foods like eight hour old cole slaw, undercooked chicken, or the dreaded hot dog on a stick. What's in a hot dog anyway and why a stick?
Is there a parade on Labor Day, I can't remember. Although this year with such high unemployment I can't imagine there would be many marchers. As well as it being potentially dangerous for the lone employed person walking down the middle of the street waving a tiny flag. I'm not a parade person even in a high employment economy. Although I do like one that has a giant inflated Mickey Mouse or Willard Scott.
Crap, the long holiday weekend looms. I feel my anxiety rising. Should I lock the door, pull down the shades, break out the stack of "People" and hope I have enough chips and wine to make it to Tuesday? That sounds so right.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment