HERE, YOU DEAL WITH HIM! YOU'RE BETTER AT IT THAN I AM!

Days off are for hiding out, long baths, snacking, and just general comfy laziness. Surely you knew that? So the question might well be what this blogger did during his down-time. And was it worth it?

Answer to second question first: yes.

Generally speaking, I did next to nothing, and did it very well. Monday and Tuesday I read a lot, spent hours on Wikipedia finding out cool stuff, and smoked several pipes in the deserted apartment. I made tea, then went out and had even more tea. I wandered over Nob Hill and down into Chinatown for snackipoos.

And I twiddled my toes in hot soapy water.
Twiddle twiddle twiddle, splash.
I had a book with me.
And a cup.

You could have been there with me, quietly hiding out from your friends, neighbors, relatives, coworkers, and any crazy acquaintances.
Assuming that all you wished to do was eat, sleep, read.
I probably would've shoved the one-legged monkey at you, and told you to ignore his demands for a banana plantation. Then gone off into the teevee room to plonk a bit on the computer while you argued with a one-foot tall simian loony. Heck, he'd probably like you, and demand that I have you over every day.

See, I tend to ignore the busy social whirl during my days off.
The monkey, as well as the other stuffed animals.
Catering to them is a full-time job.

I'm sure that when I'm at work they plot insurrection. They aren't happy with my selfishness, and would gladly trade me in for a younger model.
Anybody, really. Preferably soft.



The only side of me they truly appreciate is the side with the yummy tea and cookies. They would really like more bananas and bacon -- except for the cat, who wants fresh salmon and caviar -- and they'd love a warm body to jump all over, but this man will NOT hide out in bed with fruits and raw fish.
I'm rather opposed to such stuff between the sheets.
There are better things.

The purple cat demands that I specify "sashimi-grade salmon" whenever mentioning her. Nothing else will do. She's rather insistent, and refuses to accept that I must go off and work.  She'll be waiting for my return.
My next day off promises to be a surreal nightmare.
Small fuzzy rebels demanding attention.
I quail at the prospect.
Hairballs!


Help.



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