We are going to play with the weekend format a bit,
just for kicks and giggles.
Today we will post a question
and then each of us will write an answer.
Fans and faithful readers,
we challenge YOU to answer the question as well!
Do so in the comments section.
There are no wrong answers.
Unless it's stupid.
But no pressure.
Here is the question:
If tomorrow was yesterday,
would you do it the same?
Okay, so this whole thing was my idea and I picked this question from a list we had going because I had a few things to say about yesterday. It was supposed to be a great day, the day I carried out my final act as a graduate student (or a student of any sort other than generally of life). But alas and alack, it was a fantastically poopy day. The thing, though, is that I don’t think anything I did made the day more or less poopy, it was all because of them - the jackasses. Let’s not get into it, shall we? If I can’t resolve my issues around Friday through personal reflection and buckets of beer, I’ll write a real-type post about it on Monday. For now, for the weekend 3-way, and for the purposes of answering the question that I demanded we ask before the tedium of this introduction causes you to collapse face first onto your keyboard, I will say:
Because I would do all the things that I did yesterday, but I would do them like the Buddha, with calm, quiet wisdom, and the peaceful understanding that all of the crap that the jackasses tossed my way yesterday? That was the small stuff, and if I had yesterday to do over, I wouldn’t sweat the small stuff.
Now today? Let's just say that although I made it to the gym for an 8:30 kickboxing class, the instructor did not (jackass), and I had to use the treadmill. Need I remind you?The beach is calling me.
"If tomorrow was yesterday..." is that the question? Because somehow earlier I read it as, "If today was yesterday..."
Okay. If tomorrow was yesterday. If Sunday was Friday. Oh wait a minute. I get it. I get why I don't get it. I don't get it because I drank too much wine yesterday. Friday. And it's muddled my already-addled mind. So if tomorrow were yesterday, I'd drink less wine. Then I'd be better prepared to drink more wine tonight. Saturday. The night of the Big Party.
Everything else I'd do the same, especially the bike ride. Maybe I'd do that twice.
Okay. I'd do the bike ride twice and drink less wine.
Thank you, Ellie, laying it out as if Sunday (which is now today, because I’m a lagger) were Friday makes it much more clear in my mind……
It seems like a long time ago now, but, no, I would not do Friday the same way if I were to do it again (today). Mostly because I got really bitchy with a woman who works at the wine bar at which I'm going to be celebrating my 40th birthday later this month. (The same wine bar where Me and You and Ellie was born.)
I was anxious to send out the Evite for the soiree, but wanted to quickly double check that all was in order before I hit send. I also wanted to make sure it was okay to have a henna tattoo artist come out and practice her art on me and my friends. (A grown up version of face painting, if you will – ‘cause I knew they’d never go for the bouncy.)
Well, it turns out that, no, henna tattoos are strictly forbidden, some lame excuse about health and safety. “But they’re not real tattoos!” I exclaimed. Yes, she knew what henna tattoos were, but the answer was still no way.
Harumph. This pissed my off. Okay, I tried to let it go, and moved on to the next question…."The room’s reserved, the deposit been received?"I asked. Well, again, no. My name was penciled in, but no deposit or contract had been received. Lucky for me I had the fax I’d sent two weeks earlier sitting in front of me. The sticky I’d affixed to the fax read: April 23, 12:25 PM. (sometimes it pays to be anal).
She was unimpressed, the fact remained they did not have the fax and they did not have the deposit. This pissed me off some more, but I begrudgingly agreed to re-fax the contract/deposit. My tone at this point was not especially friendly.
Of course I had to call back after I re-faxed, to double check that they’d received it. It was Laura who again picked up the phone. She did not sound happy to hear from me. “Yes, yes, the fax is in my hand.”
I hang up, stew a bit about poor customer service, then remember I forgot to ask one final question. I call back. Laura answers (again!). “So who do I meet with prior to the party to pick wines, the menu, etc.?” I inquire.
You probably see where this is going, right?…… “Me.” Laura replies. “I’ll be overseeing your party.”
Well happy birthday to me!