10 Minute Pity Party

Yesterday was day one of spring break. The long awaited, no where connected to Easter, three-day spring break.

We were supposed to be in Disneyland this week, but David's schedule is quite full and doesn't accomodate vacation until July, maybe not until August.

I thought about driving home to California, and even had David's blessing, but decided I just wasn't up to making the drive alone this time.

Yesterday was great. I showered and did my hair, but stayed in my jammies all day. I got some housework done, folded some laundry, caught up on a couple of emails, and let the kids veg with their overnight guests. I took little cat naps here and there. I made some granola, after weeks of not having time. It was great. Relaxing.

But today I feel sorry for myself. I feel abandoned.

I have tons to do. There will be no sitting around the house today. Lots of errands to run. Here. In Utah.

I want to go. I want to get away. The weather is crappy. We even had snow flurries yesterday. We have had excellent weather every Saturday since early March, maybe all the way back until February. This weekend? Cold, cloudy and potential for rain.

And David? He's in sunny St. George, but couldn't bring us along. He's working. Working on a golf tournament today. I could join him. I could rent a car and drive down. More driving.

But I'll stay here. I'll get my errands done. I'll be the mature grown-up that makes things happen. I'll return David's slacks and exchange the shirt and tie. I'll go to Erika's lacrosse game. Blah, blah, blah.

I'll get over my pity party. I'm fine, really. I'm going to go eat my home-made granola and then get on with my day. But I'd rather be smelling cotton candy and standing in line for Thunder Mountain.