Weakend

We have this phrase we use in our house when someone is acting just a little off. We call them Bizarro. Typically it happens after someone’s had a few too many wine coolers. Like, they're all normal, cleaning dishes, or making a midnight snack, but they're doing it without pants on. This weekend was Bizarro.

To start, instead of having a weekend, I worked all the way through Saturday night. We have an annual Sales Conference every year, and it’s a really big deal. So I spent Friday night, all day Saturday and Saturday night with 45 reps from around the country being Bizarro Pharon (B.P. wears chic black dresses and lipstick, and loves to talk Business). Instead of feeling all “worky”, Bizarro Pharon actually had a good time. Example: At one point, one of the older reps, she’s probably about 75, says to me, “I may be old, but I still loooove to dance!” and then shook her booty in my general direction. Bizarre. And a little bit awesome.

Nevertheless, it was 120% exhausting. I came home and plopped down on the couch, turned on the TV, propped my feet up, and had a few glasses of wine. Oddly, no one else was home, so I enjoyed a little TV mash-up of Hannah Montana and Locked Up: Raw. Yeah, that’s a normal combo.

So, Sunday morning I woke up early (bizarre), ready to take on the day and cram a whole weekend of relaxing into one day. I got up and decided to make some toast. All the knives were dirty, so I buttered my bread with a steak knife, which is more difficult than it sounds. Then I went to Barnes & Noble to buy the book for our book club this week (Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang by Chelsea Handler). But, my intentions were not entirely pure when I swiped my credit card at the register. I was planning on reading the book then returning it. Twenty-five bucks for a book!? No thanks.

I packed up some water, a beach towel, and my soon-to-not-be-mine book (careful to leave the dust jacket in the car so I didn’t ruin it) and I headed down the block to read near the lake. I know of a little “secret spot” that no one knows about and was thus unoccupado. I spread out my towel and got down to business. It was wonderful. For 15 minutes. Then a couple with 2 of the whiniest babies ever came and set up camp next to me. Rude! And Bizarro! So, I left and read the entire book in the comfort of my own hammock.

Yeah, I finished the book, so what? So, I got in my car to return the book. I had a bulletproof response. “Of COURSE it’s never been read. I just bought it today. Who could read a whole book in one afternoon?!” As I gingerly slipped on the dust jacket, I somehow managed to rip it. Rather than risking looking like a Bizarro jerk trying to return a clearly-used book, I sped past Barnes & Noble and went to Target instead.

I’m sorry, I meant that I went to Bizarro Target. My beloved Regular Target is great, except on Sundays when it turns Bizarro. People understand the rules of shopping on a Tuesday night. Not so on Sundays. Slow drivers, slow walkers, slow talkers, slow cashiers, no carts. UGH! I got out of there in 10 minutes flat.

It’s like all the elements of a great weekend were there, the perfect weather, the relaxing time on the hammock, the errands, and the wine. But none of it was normal. None of it happened the way I wanted, or the way it typically would have happened. It’s like I ordered a plate of spaghetti and got angel hair pasta with sun-dried tomatoes and extra meatballs. Sure, it may taste good, but it’s not exactly what I wanted and certainly not what I ordered.