Today was a much-coveted Monday holiday. Labor Day is synonymous (for me) with barbeques, the last chance to wear white, trips to the Cape, clambakes, bonfires, last hurrahs before school, and Americana classic fun. I’ve never been to the Cape, I wear white when I damn well feel like it, and I don’t think I’ve ever attended a bonfire. The point is—there is a huge divergence between the image I have of this holiday and what I actually did on Labor Day.
I slept in until 10:30—but then it’s not really sleeping in when you go to bed at 2 in the morning. I lounged around on the sofa, ate a little breakfast sandwich, lounged some more, finally showered around 2 PM, went to the grocery store, and made dinner. I can’t say that I’m a gourmet chef, but The BF and I made some Bobby Flay recipe. It turned out well, but I’m rather squeamish around raw shrimp so I had to remove myself from the kitchen for a bit. Dinner was finally served at 9 PM. We ate at the coffee table (Yes! We’re those kind of Americans! Gasp!). We watched some BSG on the DVR from UHD on our 1080p. Maybe next year I’ll do something fabulous, and do it in style like some Ralph Lauren ad.
I didn’t get nearly as much writing done as I had planned, but then it is Labor Day so I guess it’s ok. It’s the working gal’s holiday—not that kind of gal, but you know what I mean. I hope your day off was spent leisurely and enjoyed thoroughly—not to be insensitive to my readers in India, Lithuania, the UK, and Germany! I hope your days weren’t too terrible at work!