Do-A-Holic

This was to be a rare weekend, one where I had nothing to do for 2 out of the 3 days. I had no evening plans, and a stack of good books to read and DVDs to watch. I stockpiled my kitchen with goodies to cook and bake.

By 4pm Fri., I was in my sweatpants whipping up some of my famous red sauce when the phone rings. It's the guy who I dated 2 years ago who lived in an unheated cabin on a lake. Now, while I like him just fine as a friend, I'm not interested really in dating him. Plus, I was truly content just chopping tomatoes in my kitchen. So why in hell did I say yes when he asked me to go to a party with him in a town 2 hours from where I live?

I'm just a girl who can't say no. 30 minutes later, I was out of my sweatpants and in his truck on the way to parts unknown. It was a lot of fun but we didn't make it back home until 11am the next morning. There went my morning of cooking and working out. But I still had time to go to the driving range and shopping Sat. afternoon.

Fast forward as I'm walking off the driving range. Who's there but PAL hanging out on the deck at the course with some friends. I was on a mission to finish up my shopping but did I stick to said mission? Hell no. Next thing I knew, I was sitting on the deck with the 3 of them. Then for reasons I'm not quite sure, went along with them to the next bar after that. Now that afternoon was shot. Have to finish up the red sauce next day.

The round of golf with Spaceman on Sunday was a lot of fun but took up a span of 8 hours. Great fun but definitely no time for sauce.

So I look back at my 2 days with no plans and ponder how it turned into a lost weekend. I think the call of the unknown and the spontaneous is just too much of a siren song for me. This would explain a lot of my exploits, including the entire span of time spent with Machine Gun Man.

I could've hung up the phone Friday night and gone back to my sauce. But I wouldn't have met some of the really cool people at that party. Or trotted past PAL and friends instead of joining them. But I never would've found that biker bar with live music on Saturday afternoons (and some of the dirtiest dancing I've seen in public in a long time, but that is a story for another blog). So I guess there are advantages to being a "do-a-holic." As Warren Zevon sang, "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

And on that note, I'm going to bed now. I have to go to work in the morning. After a weekend with nothing to do, I'm exhausted.