The Art of Lounging

Ohhhhhhh, this is going to be a restless week. I can tell already. Other people’s life changes always throw me into a mini-tizzy of my own, wondering whether I need to make some changes myself. It’s either funny or sad — I have a long list of things I’d like to do. Wishes and dreams and such. A lot of them are actually realistic, but I just haven’t taken any action towards making them happen. I’m so dumb.
It was a long, lazy weekend for the first time in a long while. Though Jose and I usually spend the weekend hanging out, his version involves being out and about. He loves browsing at Borders, Best Buy, Fry’s, and the mall. It cracks me up — I think he likes shopping more than I do! (Actually, I love shopping, I just do 90% of mine online while he prefers to visit stores.) But this weekend, Jose was asleep all day, which left me to my own devices.
My version of hanging out is doesn’t take me anywhere. It’s going for a long run. It’s watching hot air balloons from my balcony, and aiming my binoculars at the recently-returned-from-his-6-month-disappearance alligator that loves that one spot behind my apartment. It’s staying in pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt until 7:00 last night. It’s messing around for a solid 6 hours on Saturday afternoon doing nothing and everything — laundry, straightening up, web surfing, reading — while a marathon of “America’s Next Top Model” plays on TV in the background. (So help me, I love that show and all of Tyra’s absurd dramatic pauses. I think I am genetically programmed to like crappy TV. Just accept it.)
This blog entry sucks. Bye.