Somebody owes me a weekend

It dawns on me, around Wednesday, that I am way, way, way, way behind at work.

I don't get this behind.  Like, ever.  There is a solution:  I can work all weekend.

I don't like this solution.  I'm also way behind in terms of being a theatre critic.  (I'm supposed to see a certain number of shows per year and I am nowhere near where I should be by July.)  For a moment or two, I actually debated whether to see a bunch of shows this weekend or do my job.

My job won.  Obviously.  My job pays me; being a critic is for fun and for free.  I promised my boss that I would never let being a critic interfere with my work and I have to hold true to that -- even on those rare occasions when my work bleeds over into critic-ing time.  So, I brought a ton of work home to just plow through over the weekend.

Friday night, I worked.  I took a break around 9:00 to go over a friend's house for a few hours.  It's a good friend who has been going through a particularly unpleasant course of chemotherapy, and whenever she's feeling good enough to want company, I find the time.

Came home around 11 and (as is my way), I needed to watch TV for an hour or so to unwind before bed.  I watched crap.  Absolute crap.  Like, reruns of game shows crap.  Around midnight, I was about to turn in, when I figured I'd channel surf.  Stupidest thing.  (I've noticed my Dad does it, too, though, so maybe it's genetic.)  You're about to turn off the TV and go to sleep, but you check all the channels just to make sure there's nothing on any of them that you absolutely have to watch.  It's really ridiculous.

Except, this time, for the first time in, like, ever, there was actually something on that I absolutely had to watch.  Those weasels over at the Sci-Fi channel had finally decided to air the third season of (new) Dr. Who, and hadn't told me about it.  (At least USA sends an email whenever Monk starts a new season.)  And what's worse -- they started the first episode at 11:30!  I'd spent a half hour watching I've Got a Secret when I could've been watching the first half hour of an episode I've been waiting to see for, like, six months. 

I actually missed the next ten minutes of it while I searched my program guide for the next week, to see if they'd be rerunning it.  They would not.  They would, however, be running the next episode at 1:00 a.m.

I set the DVR to record whatever was left of the first episode, and the second -- which I'd anticipated to be a largely futile act as I'd most likely be watching them anyway.  And I did -- although, to my credit, I was actually getting ready for bed during the second one.

Saturday morning, I woke up bright and early because I had a monthly Critics Circle meeting.  Went to meeting.  (Amazingly, arrived on time.)  On the way home, I stopped at the store for some groceries.  Got home.  Worked.  Worked some more.  Kept right on working.  Had the good sense to stop around 11:00, unwind, re-watch that second Dr. Who episode giving it my undivided attention, and go to sleep.

Except the smoke alarm went off around 11:00.  Not in my condo -- in the whole building.  We all came out of our units to check for fire.  There are a few vacant units and I have keys to one of them.  And there's a lock box with keys to another one that I happen to have the combo for.  So, the Fire Department drives up (our alarm system automatically calls them) to find me and the President of the HOA Board standing in front of the building aiming a flashlight at the lock box trying to get the keys to a vacant unit so we can make sure it isn't on fire.  We check all the units, figure that an alarm went off because someone had been painting, and go our separate ways.  Which, for me, was back to the TV, and bed.

Woke up this morning ...  well, I first woke up this morning around 7:30 when the cat decided to do that insane thing where they run around the house for no reason and my bed happened to be in her path.  So I was awakened by my cat doing a drive-by.  I went back to sleep for about an hour, but then had to get up because I was meeting a friend for breakfast.  (There's this restaurant we love to eat at -- but there's always a huge line on the weekend.  They open at 10:30 and we try to get in line by 10:00 so we'll be sure to get a table when they open.)  After breakfast, I stopped off at the mall (to buy the appropriate bra for the dress I bought for the wedding this weekend, and to get a wedding present) and headed home.

Where I discover that my cat, my purry little princess, my precious wecious, the sweetest widdle kitten ... has been walking around my condo all morning with some, er, uh ... OK, cats poo in a box, which is great, but they can't exactly wipe themselves.  And they got a lot of fur back there.  And, every so often, something gets stuck in the fur.  So I have to pick up the cat in one hand, grab a wad of paper towels in the other, and take care of business. 

I am so not having children.

Once that's taken care of (and I clean a place on the carpet where she must have sat) I get down to work.  And more work.  And even more work.  I finish at 5:45.  I'm about to head out for dinner (a reward for a job well done) but I figure I'll check my email first.  At which point I discover that the law student working for us has just emailed me a draft of what she's been working on, so of course I print it out, pick up my red pen, and do some more work.

I'm just about finished at 7:15 when the aforementioned friend calls to ask if I've had dinner yet.  As a matter of fact, I haven't.  We head out for some eats.  I get back around 9:00, put a load of laundry in, and get ready to enjoy my weekend free time.  All two hours of it.