on the flip side

So, after working 14-16 hour days for 23 days straight (yes, 23 days STRAIGHT), it is my week off. The first day, understandably, was spent in the bar, as it was Cinco de Mayo, and I just couldn't face my mountain of laundry and dirty coffee cups and dust. Yes, there were mountains of dust. Where on earth does it come from? Yesterday I avoided housework again by meeting Seth for lunch and a movie (Ghosts of Girlfriends Past; it was truly awful), some shopping that I couldn't afford, then wine and cheese at the Biron, dinner at Zuni, and dancing with Brian and the Burrs. It was the funnest evening I've had out for a while, but despite my running around allll day and drinking well into the night, I popped up at 5am like I have every other day in the last 23. Grrrr!

I decided to pay attention to the universe (because honestly, it's been lobbing some doozies at me this week, and I just keep ducking... but that's another story for another conversation) and get my toosh out of bed and back to productivity.

By noon I had had a pot of coffee, watched LOST (kudos, really), washed, dried, and folded three loads of laundry (all pajamas and red shirts-- sad), gone to the market, made myself lunch, cleaned the kitchen, dusted and vacuumed the entire house, colored my hair, and had a long conversation with Krysten about whether we should take nicotine gum to Europe with us since neither of us have a prescription for Xanax. (Coincidentally, I tried a piece about an hour ago and it gave me a headache, so I think I'll pass. It was a good idea though.)

Now, back to me. I have Orangette's new book, A Homemade Life, a nice frosty glass of vinho verde in my hand, and the soundtrack to Amelie on my iPod. This is what days off are supposed to be. Enchanté.

Edited to add: the perfect cap to this afternoon? Sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter talking on the phone to Erin, eating apricots, and having a 2nd glass of wine.