Sunday, February 01, 2009

Just flew home from Texas

and boy are my arms tired.

Clay's in Dallas these days for work and because a friend got hitched in the Big D this weekend, I took the trip down south to partake in the festivities and save the hubs a coup-la plane rides. I somehow dodged a frigid ice storm that came earlier in the week and instead frolicked in three days of super sunny t-shirt air. Yeehaw.

We hit my three favorite brunch spots (though one of them - I'm talkin to you, All Good Cafe - is now bumped because yay food nay waitresses) and did lots of shopping-without-buying and lounged around the hotel and got dolled up for the nuptials and ate some good foods there and danced a bit.

I was sad waking up today because it was Sunday and Sundays are always a bit sad, aren't they? They've made me grumpy since the day I realized that A) school was a must and B) musts are rarely fun. But they make me especially sad when I have to hop on a plane and head home without the hubs and lose our Sunday night. Blergh.

And oh my poor, patient Buddy; he lives through a version of the Sunday Blues Breakdown every single weekend. Here's how today's went down.

We're in a baggage store, perusing the luggage. We walk outside into the sunshine.

Me: "I'm done. Done. I don't like this shopping thing I don't want to do this anymore I hate it I need to pee my back hurts and I'm going to sit here and not move I'm done."

Clay: (Mouth agape - five minutes before I was happily strolling along, singing showtunes. Quick on his ever-thinking feet, he realizes this is half blood sugar half Sunday Blues related.) "It sounds like you need some food, Buddy. Chipotle?"

Me: "I'm not moving."

Clay: "Hmm. (Pats my hand.) Chipotle?"

Me: (Pictures sour cream. Removes self from sidewalk.) "Okay."

We drive to Chipotle. I inhale three tacos in five minutes.

Clay: "Feel better, Cram?"

Me: (Sniffling.) A little. But doesn't seeing people eat alone ever make you want to cry?"

Clay: "Hmm. Not really? I sure eat alone alot so I'd spend a lot of time crying."

Me: "Did you not SEE that man in there alone? Eating ALONE?" (Crying.)

Clay: "Hmm. No? Wait - are you really crying? Ummm he was probably just grabbing a quick taco after church before going home to his wife and kids! Then he'll watch the Superbowl!" (Desperate to stop the tear deluge.)

Me: (Full sobbing now.) "HE WASN'T WEARING A WEDDING RING!!! You're probably right though! He probably DID come from church, where they're repressing his homosexuality and now he's staring into space at a random strip mall Chipotle and sipping a small cup of water and thinking about the boy he once loved! Alone!" (Heave, sob, heave.)

Clay takes my hand, gently drives us back to the hotel, and puts me down for a nap. I wake up semi-un-psychotic and pack up my new navy nail polish for the trip home. Oh, my. My poor, good Hammy.

And now! I must call his cute bum to say goodnight.

(Goodnight, friends.)

1 comment:

  1. This post made me laugh until I cried because it sounds so familiar. Why, just the other day, I got choked up watching Spiderman 2. Who knew it was such a tear-jerker?


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