So we just enjoyed the last holiday weekend we’re getting for a while…and the nation collectively weeps. Isn’t it amazing how that extra Monday off really makes all the difference in the world? All hail the four-day work week; may it be made a permanent fixture! There are so many jobs I need to do around the house, but I put them off constantly because Saturday is shop-day, and Sunday is recover-from-shop-let’s-go-to-brunch day. But three days? Three?? SO much more can be accomplished! I look back on my July 4th weekend and question if I really used it to its full potential.
The Friday was July 1st – Canada Day. It was also Lynne’s official 20-year anniversary of when she first arrived in the Cayman Islands hence there would be no escape from The Evening Out. By Friday I’m usually quite tired and tend to stay in so I tried to come up with an excuse, but Lynne insisted and pulled the Special Occasion card. She also mentioned something about me always getting my way and friendship being a two-way street. She can be so selfish sometimes! I relented and accepted my fate, pulling out the makeup bag to prepare my blank canvas for the night ahead. The other Canadian compatriot Ms. Carol said she would join us for dinner at Ortanique. We had a fabulous meal in the glorious air-conditioning, and I figured I’d done my bit but Lynne was keen to head to an outdoor venue to continue the fun. You can imagine my disappointment when the heavens opened and we had to run to the car. Oh well – you can’t do anything about Mother Nature.
The next day I arose full of energy. I would go down to the sailboat (which I am now finally trying to sell) and clean out the cabin. It was only 97 degrees outside after all! I loaded up a bag with supplies and drove to the Yacht Club to enter the bowels of my beloved “Xanax.” An hour later my face was a deep pink and I had gone through a gallon of water. I tell you what: Bliss’ hot yoga class has got NOTHING on that experience. It was hotter, sweatier, and I was bending myself into a pretzel trying to get to the corners of nooks and crannies nearly out of reach. My hair frizzed up like a creature threatened in the wild as I moved up and down the cabin with barely a breath of wind gracing my cheek. When I finally departed my vessel I had to run the gauntlet between the local seamen to get back to the car. Normally full of largely unwarranted compliments, all they could muster this time was “You got a nice smile today.” I too would have been hard-pressed to find something positive about my appearance.
When I got home I had a shower and collapsed onto the couch, reaching instinctively for the remote control. There was barely anything on TV and as tired as I was, I could not bring myself to settle on the shenanigans of Ice-T and his pneumatic wife Coco. I instead went for “Hoarders” on A&E. I didn’t have to watch for long before deciding that the spare mattress and box spring in my spare room were leaving the house before Tuesday no matter what.
That night I hosted karaoke at Fidel’s. You never know how busy it’s going to be on a holiday weekend, but it ended up being a good crowd with some great singers. Regulars Rod and Dan sang their signature eight-minute “November Rain” by Guns and Roses. I win some, I lose some.
On Sunday I considered going through some belongings to sell or donate. I considered and considered and considered. Probably best not to take on too much too quickly. Instead I read my iPad copy of Vanity Fair, weighed myself five times, and went through TV programs we’d recorded from 2010 forward which we couldn’t bring ourselves to delete. Maybe we were digital hoarders. I barely stepped outside the house; it was wonderful.
Monday swiftly arrived and I got on the horn to our handyman Tim – the A&E program was haunting me so I wanted that bedding set gone! Around he came with his truck and we got to hauling the furniture. I learned a couple of valuable lessons that day. Trying to carry a mattress with no handles is like trying to lug a dead body somewhere. And box springs don’t bend around corners. We got the truck loaded up and went to my sister’s apartment. Turns out she needed a spare bed, so this was all going to work out beautifully. Of course she lived on the second floor, and of course the stairs were incredibly awkward. As I got biffed in the jaw with the box spring I made a mental note to pay movers in the future. Once again I was hot and sweaty. It occurred to me that I had basically spent the weekend looking like a supermodel.
The hours were quickly ticking by now, and Tuesday was approaching. I was desperate to make the most of my last day. A-HA! The Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest was on ESPN! There they were, a group of men lining up with large cups of water in front of them, and a mound of hot dogs like an all-beef-and-bun Everest. On your marks, get set, go! It was one of the most difficult things to watch – food being crammed down throats at a rate of knots. It was also the perfect way to end the long weekend. Tuesday I was going back to the gym!