I'm taking the day off. Sort of. My mom is in town (hence the lack of blogging, which is also caused by having little to say), so I thought it'd be nice before she goes back tomorrow to have a toddler-free day where she and I could go out to lunch. Sadly, I have to call in to work for a half-hour meeting. It drives me nuts that I have to do that on my day off. I guess it happens to everyone sooner or later, but any time off I take is generally sacrosanct, including evenings whenever possible and weekends. It's hard to have that mentality in my job and get ahead. And I wonder why I haven't gotten a promotion. Huh.
The weekend was actually quite lovely. We spent most of the day outside yesterday, with me laying down some mulch and Ragsy protesting loudly because I was covering up his beloved mud. Today I think we'll be stopping by the plant nursery, going to lunch and hopefully doing some shopping, though I hate being one of those jackasses with a phone plastered to her cheek bellowing about whatever incredibly-important subject (to me) while being a jerk to my mom and any sales clerks or nearby patrons. I'll try to keep it down and keep it short, I swear. With any luck, I'll forget entirely and get to say oops tomorrow. If I remember, though, my conscience won't let me just not call in.
So, that's the bulk of my weekend. Saturday was spent primarily running the cats to the vet for a regular check up and dealing with a tired, cranky kid. Yesterday was much, much better. And made even better by the pomegranate margaritas and pina coladas we made last night. Note to self: more than one margarita makes you tipsy. Not hammered, but very, very...relaxed.
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