Why Does Time Fly

Why did whoever invented time decide to be against me in every possible way?

  1. Each and every weekend flies by in a blur of food, kisses, Netflix series and a general good time.
  2. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get everything done in the day at work.
  3. When I know I’m attending a meeting, course, training afternoon, the time seems to stop for the few hours I’m attending.
  4. I was all proud of myself Friday morning when I woke up in New York, pulled on my running clothes, and left the vacation house for a run.  And then I got two feet up the cliff of a driveway and thought I would die.  I huffed and puffed (walking) to the top of the steepest part of the cliff, then got myself running again.
  5.  So here I am back at home, completely covered in scratches and bruises.  I can’t tell which injuries are from my “run,” and which are from my hot tub antics.  I’m pretty much a mess.
  6. I’m due back at the gym tomorrow, and I’m sitting here thinking to myself, “Maybe next day, maybe now let’s take another test… ha ha ha, Am I just looking for a reason to sleep in a little tomorrow?


There are some houseguests who are a dream.  You look forward to having these people in your home.  And for however long!  Stay for a month, please!  These houseguests are fun, cheerful, easy to talk to, easy to entertain, and are courteous.  Like, they make their bed in the morning, leave the bathroom neat, ask to help with dinner, pour you that extra glass of wine.

These are not the houseguests I entertained this past weekend.  Not in the least. This past weekend, I “entertained” against my better judgment my brother-in-law and his girlfriend.  After nearly ten years of knowing him, I’m still not sure I like my brother-in-law.  I have heartily disliked the girlfriend since the first minute I met her, almost a year ago.  My excitement at having them to our house overnight?  Yay.

But I sucked it up.  I would be the good wife and let these two eff-ups stay at our home overnight.  Nate and I packed Laura up and met up in the city to have dinner in Little Italy.  We even went with them to a bar to watch some college football.  Around 7:30, I called it a night and took Laura home.  Nate stayed to go to some coffee house for some live music.

I played with Laura, put her to bed, watched a sappy movie, tried to put myself to bed.  The problem for me was that I was expecting them home any minute.  The garage closed at midnight – I went to bed at 11:45 – we live 30 minutes from the garage.  I tossed, turned, and finally went back downstairs for more TV.  Their taxi rolled in at 3.  I could tell Nate was pissed – what other mood is there, after an evening with those two?

The girlfriend was a mess.  A trashy mess, which is no different than usual.  I just didn’t want it in my home.  She trashed my bathroom, doing god knows what in there for hours.  She trashed the guestroom, tearing all the covers and all the sheets off the bed.  I guess she was hoping to wear a blanket toga-style?  Because she spent most of the night wandering my house naked.  I shoved pajamas in her face on multiple occasions to no avail.  At one point, she found a CD on our desk and broke it into a million little shards.  Maliciously.  No idea why.  She barged into my bedroom at least twice, asking where she was supposed to sleep.  I can’t believe she didn’t wake Laura up.  She pulled the door off my closet, I guess in an attempt to find some clothes.  She wound up stealing my favorite sweatshirt.  She walked out of my home wearing it, nary a word of request or thanks.  I hope I never see that sweatshirt again.  I’ll burn it before I wear it again.

The next morning, Nate’s first words were, “My brother is a douche.”  I responded with, “That girlfriend is never welcome in our house again.”  The feelings were mutual.