5 things I look forward to with each coming week
(list idea from
steforama)
1. Weekend morning movies
Adam works on Saturday and Sunday from 5 am to 1 pm. I usually wake up, hear him leave, remember what day it is, and go back to sleep. Bliss! When I do get up (usually around 8:30. My body doesn't let me sleep more than 7 or 8 hours at a time), and after I walk the dog and get some breakfast and coffee for myself, I turn on whichever of my Netflix movies Adam thinks he has no interest in -- usually a black-and-white love story or a quiet, New Yorker-short-storyesque movie about a character quietly coming to terms with a problem. Saturday's movie was His Girl Friday, with Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell. Yay! More Cary Grant is on tap for next weekend.
2. Treating myself to lunch
I am a very thrifty girl. Knowing that some people get lunch out every day gives me the shakes... but, five days of leftovers, sandwiches, and Amy's Organic burritos (always accompanied with my signature side dishes of a cup of yogurt and a banana) also isn't the most palatable thing in the world. So, once a week, I take myself out to lunch. If it's Tuesday or Wednesday, I ask Adam to meet me out somewhere. If it's not, I take a book with me. One of these days I should try to replace the book with a co-worker, but that hasn't happened yet.
3. Watching The Office
I'm still ashamed of being a BBC snob and not allowing myself to discover the wonder that is NBC's The Office until this past spring. I'm catching up on season 3 through the Thursday night repeats. Last week - Toby slaving away at the claw machine to win Pam the creepily cute stuffed duck? Aww jeez.
4. Friday
Okay, so this one's kind of hackneyed, but come on, you've gotta love your last day at work for the week. I get to wear jeans to work (except over these past few weeks, when it's been way too warm to wear the extra super dark blue skinny jeans I stupidly decided would be good for summer), Gawker posts Kreepie Kats and Glaring Omissions, I make an exhaustive to-do list, and think about all the things I'm going to do over the next two days. I always inflate the length of the weekend on Friday afternoon. Maybe it's not a good thing to do, but I like those few hours of thinking I have nearly limitless free time ahead of me. Adam and I usually do something out on Friday evening, whether it's going out for dinner or hitting up the Whole Foods gelato bar or going to the creepy underground Target at Lindbergh Center.
5. Writing when the world is quiet
I wish I did this more than once a week. Sometimes I'll stay up and write until all the lights are out in the high-rise condo building I can see from the window of the spare bedroom. Or sometimes I'll get up when Adam gets up and go to my office before sunrise, which gives me a few hours of absolute silence in which to write before everyone else comes in. I sit by a big window, so I can watch the day gear up as I think and type.
And in the future, I hope I can say:
Dance class
When we moved, I had a goal to get involved in some sort of non-solitary activity. For a change. Writing and reading and running and watching old movies are all good things, but they sure don't make a girl any more outgoing. I thought of joining a gym, but both the gyms around here require long contracts. Ick. Plus, I probably would have just ended up running on a treadmill with my iPod. I thought of joining the boxing gym, but it's a lousy drive from where I live.
Then I had a DUH moment. I had been researching ballet and the lives of not-quite-professional ballet dancers for my novel. Why not start taking dance classes again? I asked a co-worker who's a competitive dancer to recommend a studio to me. She did, and it's perfect -- all adult classes, nothing to sign, no schedule to adhere to, just come in for whichever class you want and pay your $15 for every class you take. And besides ballet, they've got jazz and tap and hip-hop and salsa and bellydance and modern and cabaret classes.
Right, so, now all I have to do is, you know, go. Lazy and Cowardly Self, you have been foiled. I went to my first ballet class Saturday afternoon. I shall write about it later.
steforama)
1. Weekend morning movies
Adam works on Saturday and Sunday from 5 am to 1 pm. I usually wake up, hear him leave, remember what day it is, and go back to sleep. Bliss! When I do get up (usually around 8:30. My body doesn't let me sleep more than 7 or 8 hours at a time), and after I walk the dog and get some breakfast and coffee for myself, I turn on whichever of my Netflix movies Adam thinks he has no interest in -- usually a black-and-white love story or a quiet, New Yorker-short-storyesque movie about a character quietly coming to terms with a problem. Saturday's movie was His Girl Friday, with Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell. Yay! More Cary Grant is on tap for next weekend.
2. Treating myself to lunch
I am a very thrifty girl. Knowing that some people get lunch out every day gives me the shakes... but, five days of leftovers, sandwiches, and Amy's Organic burritos (always accompanied with my signature side dishes of a cup of yogurt and a banana) also isn't the most palatable thing in the world. So, once a week, I take myself out to lunch. If it's Tuesday or Wednesday, I ask Adam to meet me out somewhere. If it's not, I take a book with me. One of these days I should try to replace the book with a co-worker, but that hasn't happened yet.
3. Watching The Office
I'm still ashamed of being a BBC snob and not allowing myself to discover the wonder that is NBC's The Office until this past spring. I'm catching up on season 3 through the Thursday night repeats. Last week - Toby slaving away at the claw machine to win Pam the creepily cute stuffed duck? Aww jeez.
4. Friday
Okay, so this one's kind of hackneyed, but come on, you've gotta love your last day at work for the week. I get to wear jeans to work (except over these past few weeks, when it's been way too warm to wear the extra super dark blue skinny jeans I stupidly decided would be good for summer), Gawker posts Kreepie Kats and Glaring Omissions, I make an exhaustive to-do list, and think about all the things I'm going to do over the next two days. I always inflate the length of the weekend on Friday afternoon. Maybe it's not a good thing to do, but I like those few hours of thinking I have nearly limitless free time ahead of me. Adam and I usually do something out on Friday evening, whether it's going out for dinner or hitting up the Whole Foods gelato bar or going to the creepy underground Target at Lindbergh Center.
5. Writing when the world is quiet
I wish I did this more than once a week. Sometimes I'll stay up and write until all the lights are out in the high-rise condo building I can see from the window of the spare bedroom. Or sometimes I'll get up when Adam gets up and go to my office before sunrise, which gives me a few hours of absolute silence in which to write before everyone else comes in. I sit by a big window, so I can watch the day gear up as I think and type.
And in the future, I hope I can say:
Dance class
When we moved, I had a goal to get involved in some sort of non-solitary activity. For a change. Writing and reading and running and watching old movies are all good things, but they sure don't make a girl any more outgoing. I thought of joining a gym, but both the gyms around here require long contracts. Ick. Plus, I probably would have just ended up running on a treadmill with my iPod. I thought of joining the boxing gym, but it's a lousy drive from where I live.
Then I had a DUH moment. I had been researching ballet and the lives of not-quite-professional ballet dancers for my novel. Why not start taking dance classes again? I asked a co-worker who's a competitive dancer to recommend a studio to me. She did, and it's perfect -- all adult classes, nothing to sign, no schedule to adhere to, just come in for whichever class you want and pay your $15 for every class you take. And besides ballet, they've got jazz and tap and hip-hop and salsa and bellydance and modern and cabaret classes.
Right, so, now all I have to do is, you know, go. Lazy and Cowardly Self, you have been foiled. I went to my first ballet class Saturday afternoon. I shall write about it later.