Yesterday ended up being a much different day than I could have imagined when I climbed out of bed at 5:30 AM.
So I got to work just before 7:00 and immediately started feeling like crap. It was sort of an arbitrary crap, because I’m not sick or anything, I just felt… yucky. I had a raging headache, and was feeling tired and unmotivated and bored and cranky and fat. So into my head popped the idea of leaving work “sick”, and once it’s in there, there’s really no turning back. I sat for ten minutes staring at an email to my boss saying I was going home sick, debating whether or not I should hit the send button. Well I did, and by 8:00 I was back in my car headed home, calling my husband to let him know. He, of course, ridiculed me for a bit, but we decided to meet for lunch later on before noon. I drove home in a happy daze, my head full of ideas of what I could do with my day. My headache had mysteriously vanished.
It was strange listening to the radio morning shows on the way home from work, I have to say that was a first. Even more strange was that I heard my aunt call in to the station to weigh in on their discussion on marriage and money, and how couples deal with the whole “how much can you spend on yourself?” dilemma. She was talking about her handbag fetish, and how she can easily drop a few hundred on a new purse, but he will call and get her permission before making a $20 purchase for some sort of tool he needs. It’s not that she makes him ask for her permission, he just does. I think it’s safe to say, my poor uncle is officially whipped.
Anyways, so back to my day-o-laziness. When I got home I snuggled with my very surprised and excited pup on the couch for a few hours, tried to get a little nap in, put on some comfy jeans, and headed back out to pick up Dan. It was so nice to see him and I felt horribly guilty about the fact that I was playing hooky and he had to go back to work after lunch. When we were driving back to his office, we went right by a movie theatre, and I immediately knew what I wanted to do with my afternoon.
So for the first time in my life (if you don’t count the movie I saw in our hotel in Vegas last winter) I went to a movie theatre all by myself. I’ve wanted to see In Her Shoes since the fricken day it came out, and the fact that it was noon and they had a 12:15 showing was like God telling me to go for it. My solo-movie-going experience ended up being kind of bizarre actually. First, after purchasing my ticket, I went to the snack counter, because you just have to go to the snack counter when you go to a movie. Since I had just eaten lunch (I could literally still taste it), I wouldn’t allow myself to get my usual “popcorn, light butter”, so I thought I would just get a drink. Yes, I decided, one nice big Diet Coke with lots of ice and a straw was exactly what I wanted. So without looking at prices or options, I asked for a large Diet Coke, and I took note of the weird look that the hippie counter boy gave me as he went about fulfilling my order. I was given the reason for the weird look when he handed me the most enormous plastic cup I have ever seen and told me it would be $4.25. I had just bought 64 ounces of nutri-sweet and caffeine, all for myself. It was almost too big to carry with one hand! When he asked me how many straws I wanted, I sheepishly told him, “just one”, and ran off to the bathroom to flush my bladder in preparation of 2 hours alone, in the dark, with 64 ounces of Diet coke.
I was surprised to find the restroom completely pitch black. Despite my efforts to press the button on the wall that wasn’t really a button and jump around to initiate what I assumed were motion lights, it stayed dark. It actually kind of freaked me out, so I got the hell out of there and practically ran into the guy standing out in front of the men’s restroom. I come to find out the lights are off in there as well, and he has recruited another hippie boy to get them back on. Ten minutes later, I’m still standing there, sipping on my 64 ounces of Diet coke, talking to the three guys now waiting to use the restroom, watching as hippie movie theatre boy runs back and forth in a frantic fury. At this point my need to go to the bathroom had intensified, due to the aforementioned sipping of my monstrous soda. Finally, the guy fetched a couple flashlights and told us to go for it so we didn’t miss the beginning of our movies. I have to say, I was a little freaked out in there in the dark, but I forged through the fear.
So I’m finally sitting in the theatre, accompanied only by about 6 retirees (the only people seeing romantic comedies at 12:15 PM on a Wednesday), and the little commercial/TV thing has finished and told us the movie would be starting momentarily. Cut to another ten minutes later, we’re still sitting there staring at the frozen screen. Hippie guy finally runs in and apologizes, says he’s been dealing with the bathrooms, and at last the movie is up and running. My bladder prep wasn’t exactly successful, and I ended up going to the bathroom three times during the movie, not even making a dent in the 64 ounces of cancer in my cup holder.
The movie ended up being great, by the way, they stayed so true to the book, which I loved, and Toni Collette was just wonderful. Go see it. Really, really good.
In summary, my day yesterday was, in one word, awesome. It was so great to just take a day off in the middle of the week and just do whatever I wanted. It’s definitely something I shouldn’t get used to, but I can’t say I’m feeling very guilty about it. One thing I do feel guilty about, however, is skipping Belly Dancing last night. Bad. Bad, bad, bad.