I was starting to get tired of country acts being so self referential when it came to announcing in their songs that they believe in the simple things and grew up in a small town. It seems like you could be a little more creative in writing ABOUT the simple things and Norman Rockwell American life, (Like Allan Jackson's "Drive (For Daddy Gene,)" or Brad Paisley's "Famous People.")
But I can make an exception with Little Big Town and their song "Boondocks."
That's one seriously fun song.
So my weekend looks like this:
I worked from 10-7 today, went and worked out, picked some stuff up at H-E-B, came home to find Tom had purchased a really big television that isn't as big as the big screen. (I think they call this new contraption a "flat screen hdtv," or something fancy like that. Right now I'm writing this post and about to go to bed.
Tomorrow I work from 7-3. Since there's only two managers who could work tomorrow, I'm going all day without a break until James comes to relieve me. After that I'm going to try to play with the kids for a bit, then come home and cook food for whoever wants to come over. (If you want to come over, come over. Taco Soup?)
No running for me tomorrow. I've done something everyday since Sunday, and I need a break. Will try for 9 miles on Sunday.
Sunday I have church, that run, then will rest. I have to go in to work at 9:00 and stay until the carpet cleaners finish their job. You know what sucks about that? I don't get to watch Grey's Anatomoy with everyone else.
Well, I'm off to bed. I hope everyone's weekend is good. I hope I get to see you sometime.
"Grace is the light or electricity or juice or breeze that takes you from that isolated place and puts you with others who are as startled and embarrassed and eventually grateful as you are to be there." -- Anne Lamott