For the first time in weeks, I had zero plans this weekend. It didn’t come a minute too soon. I was over-socialized to the point of being a zombie. When this happens I can’t think very well. I don’t sleep. It’s a cycle of awful.
I’m happy to report I made the most of my weekend, mostly by avoiding adult responsibilities and human contact. Aside from Lincoln at Target and my friend EM in Madison, I haven’t spoken to anyone.
I can’t remember the last time I took a shower. I do remember that I took three or four naps. I watched ten entire episodes of “Riverdale” which is like Dawson’s Creek meets Scooby Doo with the wardrobe budget of Pretty Little Liars. I read 1/2 of Megan Abbott’s Give Me Your Hand, and last night I made French toast, which only served to remind me that I don’t eat French toast often enough. Tonight I made was chicken enchiladas, esquites, and guacamole. I’m only a little ashamed to admit that I ate all the esquites, most of it while I was still putting together the enchiladas.
The only thing I regret this weekend is there isn’t more esquites to eat.