The other morning, after several failed attempts to rise my pathetic self from bed, I sighed (ever so dramatically) and announced, “I was never meant to work for a living; I was meant for high society.”
It’s true. I’m about as far from high society as they come. Crazy hair aside, I find it most unnerving to hire someone to do a task for which I am fully capable; and I simply cannot abide by elite hobnobbery. As a matter of fact, the minute someone suggests I dress or behave in a certain fashion, simply to impress someone of perceived importance, I feel an overwhelming urge to pull a Lucille Ball and do the exact opposite: don denim overalls, rat my hair, blacken my teeth, and babble about like a hick from the sticks.
Still, I wouldn’t mind the free time–the chance to roll out of bed as I please; meet friends for tea; play a little; write a little; mark a few books off my list.
I guess that’s why us common folk have weekends.
With that, I hope you find a bit of freedom in the days ahead; days in which to while away the hours, doing as you please. Just remember (if you live in the U.S. or Canada), we spring forward on Sunday. So do make the most of all the hours, to make up for the hour lost . . .