I never know what to say after a weekend. Usually I say something like “this weekend was great” which is dumb because weekends are pretty much always great, what with the not being at work and all that. This weekend was no exception, although it was busier than most since we were both (gasp) social and (double gasp) productive.
On Friday a bunch of people from work went out for drinks. It was fun and a good way to relax after a loooong week. Most of them ended up heading out to another place in Boston, but I went home. That’s one of the bad things about living in the ‘burbs. I am closer to work, but it’s not so convenient to go into the city anymore. I debated going, but it would have meant paying a lot of money for parking, and I also wouldn’t have been able to drink because I didn’t have anyone to drive me home. Not that drinking is everything or key to having fun, but to drive to a bar, pay to park, and then not be able to drink at said bar seemed pretty stupid to me.
Then on Saturday Matt and I took care of some errands, cleaned up around the house, worked out, and then relaxed for a while before heading out to a friend’s birthday party. The party was really fun (remember, beach theme) – especially because I made some tropical punch for all to enjoy and it was Matt’s turn to ensure that we got home safely and soundly. Which meant that I may or may not have played a lot of card games, drank a lot of the punch, and was in a pretty happy place by the time we left.
On Sunday we got up, got ready, and headed to Matt’s parent’s house to celebrate Mother’s Day. We went out to lunch and then went back to their house where we sat outside in lawn chairs for a while just talking and hanging out.
Once we got home we started working on our yard. We have been slow to get started this – I think it has to do with the way Matt and I approach projects. We are both capable of looking at the big picture AND doing the little details when necessary. However, for some reason with this type of project he immediately starts thinking of the big picture (we’ll re-build the patio and create a rock path along the side of the house and ooh, wouldn’t a gazebo be fun) and all I can think about are the details (we need to rake and get grass seed and fertilizer and it all better be really cheap). This seems like a good thing, since we should balance each other out, but really what it means is that we end up stalled, neither of us willing to admit that we think the other one’s plan completely blows.
So yesterday we ventured out to begin some general clean-up in our backyard. Our backyard is pretty much the size of a postage stamp, because although our property goes farther back, it goes into the woods. We have a retaining wall around our yard before the property goes steeply down into woods – this is great for throwing leaves, etc over the fence where they can fertilize the woods. I am nothing if not an environmentalist. Also, too lazy for bagging that shit up.
Soon after we began, we discovered something. While most yards are made of things like plants and grass, ours is comprised of two things: Rocks and Weeds. Where the hell did all those rocks come from? We started ripping out weeds and digging our rocks and quickly came to the realization that this was less of a ‘take away the bad stuff in the yard’ type of project and more of a ‘screw it, we’re better off starting over than trying to salvage this mess’. By the time we finished yesterday, almost half of the yard had been completely ripped up. We’re trying to decide between throwing down grass seed or getting sod, but in either case we’re hoping to give some grass a fighting chance.
And finally, what started as a mild sore throat yesterday morning has morphed into a very painful sore throat complete with a bad cough (I sound like a seal) and a very hoarse/scratchy voice. Sexy. I have no other symptoms other than being damn irritable because in case you didn’t know, seal-like coughing is not conducive to sleep. Fanfreakingtastic.
Good god, this entry is boring. Why do you read this shit? Grass? Coughing? Bo-ring. You must have something better to do.