Monday moaning: yet again

How is it that I end up feeling guilty and lazy after taking a weekend off of all responsibilities? I should feel relaxed and recharged, right?

Wrong.

I really think you have to go away to have that work out, or at least I do. It was a truly beautiful weekend this weekend, with yesterday's temps beating all sorts of historical records. Although that meant 105 degree  temps inland, it meant perfect beach weather on the coast. So I blew off yoga, I blew of writing an article that is overdue. I slept in both mornings, had both a breakfast and a dinner in bed, drank foo foo drinks, watched the Chargers game poolside, and went to bed at 9:30 pm on Saturday night and at 7:45 pm last night.

Okay, honestly, I no longer feel tired. But instead, I now feel like a self-loathing sloth!

Well, at least until I re-read the hours posted on the door of the office next door:

That's right! They work 3 days a week, and their long day is 5 hours. Their short day? A measly 3 hours. Plus every weekend is a 4 day weekend. (Why aren't those my summer hours?)

And summer? Even though we're finally getting some summer weather here in San Diego, it's not summer anymore -- it's fall. Get your lazy asses back to work!

Finally, and completely unrelated........ isn't it irritating ironic that my mother lugged my childhood books around with her from Maryland to Ohio, where they sat in various basements in each state, until she finally shipped them to me out here, where they have now resided in four different San Diego homes, and my child hates to read?!

I mean look at these classics:

"Are you there God it's Me Margaret?", The original "Ramona the Pest," and "Stuart Little," the old classics, printed long before they were made into Hollywood movies? "Blubber" and "Otherwise Know As Sheila the Great"?

Sigh. At least she has two younger sisters.