It’s Sunday, and all I want to do is laze around. The Bald One is home for the weekend and will be off again tomorrow morning to the wilds of Virginia. I’ve already had my ritualistic phone call to the parents and heard about their exciting week of work and travel. The laundry is mostly finished, but I still have that to finish. Not to mention the breakfast dishes from the fantastic waffles (made from farm-fresh eggs!) are sitting in the sink waiting to be cleaned. I just have no desire to do anything but laze.
Maybe its the fact I start a show tomorrow. We’ve already had two production meetings and even had a sketch of the set distributed. I’m probably better prepared than I’ve felt in a while for this one…but I wouldn’t say I was ready, either. I never feel ready for the first day of rehearsal, but I do put up a good front.
Or maybe its the fact that the Bald One will be back home after this week of resets. I’ve gotten into a morning routine that does not involve him, and adding him back in is going to be a bit of a lurch – even if he’s a sleeping body or someone trying to read the paper while I am. I’ve missed him, but I’m apprehensive about changing my routine again.
Maybe it’s the little recovering cat next to me. His fur is coming back in, so it no longer feels weird when he lays next to you and purrs. Granted, I can still see too much of his skin, but the fur is coming in everywhere, so there is hope.
Maybe it’s just that it is Sunday, a day of rest and reflection, and that feeling has sunk into my bones and won’t quit. The thought of cleaning the house, prepping for the show, and otherwise gearing up for the week ahead means that another weekend is over before it had a chance to be enjoyed. And maybe I’m just lazy.