That's my weekend summed up in a word.
It all started on Friday. It was a beautiful day, albeit very hot first thing in the morning. My guy is out of town and I planned a fun, active weekend for myself. I just needed to get some errands straightened out first thing in the morning, live through work until 5 p.m. until a Happy Hour with co-workers and then I was going to take myself out dancing.
So I got up, got dressed in a very cute outfit with my new pair of kelly green ballet flats, a yellow top from Banana Republic and my high-waisted, wide leg jeans from H&M. I finished the look with my white headwrap and these yellow dangly earrings from Target.
Before I went to work, I was going to take the paperwork from my auto loan lien holder to get a clear title. This was my moment to make my car, my own OFFICIALLY!
Sound good? It all went sliding downhill before I even got to my office.
I decided to walk from the train station to the DMV because I've done it before, it's good exercise and I'll get some sun.
Too much sun it turned out. It was HOT. And the shade was short and rare with the sun beating straight down on the wide open street with plenty of places to shop, but no trees. After about a mile (I guess, I have no idea what the actually distance was), my feet killed! I continued.
I finally got to the DMV, my shirt clinging to my sweat-soaked body in dark, damp patches. My feet were hot and shouting to be released from the shoes. The line, predictably, went out the door.
But it moved quickly. I was grateful for the air conditioning, raising my arms a little, awkwardly, to get some cool air into my hot and drenched armpits (lovely imagery, I know).
I got my paperwork and sat down to fill it out. Took me one minute. I looked up at the Now Serving board. E 504. I was E 507. Oh good! Of course there were a bunch of A's, C's, G's and I's, but I figured it wouldn't take long to get to me.
I took a moment to check my feet. The skin rubbed off the back of my Achille's tendon in a dime-sized spot on my right foot. Ouch. On the left, the shoe rubbed through the Band-Aid I put there specifically as a precaution. I had an angry blister filling up with fluid near the heel. I had a red spot on my little toes. Oooookaaaay.
Then 20 minutes passed. Then 45. Then 65. And they got to E505. Now it was 10 a.m. and I was much later for work than I planned to be.
When they finally called me, I shuffled to the window and laid out my pristine paperwork. The lady looked at it and said, "You don't need to come here for this." Huh? The letter I got from the lien holder said... "Yes, but this is your clear title right here. They attached it the letter." Um, oh. Then... why did the letter say to... how was I supposed to know that... AARRRGHHH!!
I thanked her, took my title and thought about the LONG walk I still had to make to my office, across a bridge, in direct sunlight. Lord help me.
Long story short, I got to my office, drenched in sweat again and my feet hurting even more. When I got to my desk I could feel the effects of about an hour's worth of direct sun with no break or hydration -- I was SLEEPY. I felt like I had been in a fight. There goes dancing tonight, I thought, that ain't happening.
I planned to go to a wine tasting in Baltimore with Single Ma. It was $45 (before you say anything,wait). I bought my ticket. But, I was too hasty, because she had a scheduling conflict. Oops. So, I guess I was going solo if necessary because it was $45 after all. And then, about 10 minutes later, I realized something. As eager as I was to go to this wine tasting and how much fun I thought it would be to hang out in B'More with my friend for the day, $45 for a wine tasting is ABSURD. It's outrageous. All of a sudden, all the free wine tastings I've been to (including the free tastings at a place 2 miles away from home, not 45) came to me and I wondered, "Why did we think this was a good idea?" Oh well.
By the end of the day I was skipping the Happy Hour too. My feet hurt too much and I wanted to lay down.
I got home and decided to at least see a movie. I went to a theater near my apartment. When I arrived, a huge crowd was piled outside. Apparently, someone pulled the fire alarm, requiring an evacuation of the building and firetrucks and police cars to come zipping down the streets. Disgusted, I left for another theater.
Probably shoulda just taken my butt home and wrote the day off as a loss, but I'm apparently hard wired to do things the hard way. I get to the second theater and notice that the next showing of Wall-E wasn't until 9 p.m. It was 7:30. What the heck was I supposed to do for another 90 minutes that didn't involve spending money?
Going home, maybe? But naw, I went to get something to eat. I sat, tired and irritated, nursing a glass of Shiraz and waiting for my meal.
I went to see the movie. It was really good, but I was ready to go home.
I get home, crawl into bed and just try to shake it off. Saturday was a whole new day and it was going to be awesome.
And it was, once it was over.
But I'll get to that in tomorrow's post.