Which means that the food supply is always running low, due to the presence of hungry teenagers in the house. It means that the little stresses of life threaten to come creeping in at the edges of our existence. Now we must seek out quiet corners to read, and only in uninterrupted increments of ten minutes. Even then there is always a chance that one might hear the loud brays of laughter coming from the basement, which might be off-putting to someone immersed in the novel about the Holocaust, or trying to decipher the secrets of the universe as plotted out by some self-serving economist.
The extended weekend itself was dreamy, as always. No matter where I may travel with my Significant Other, I always feel as if we are adrift on a timeless, and stress-free island . . . that is until check out arrives at 11 a.m. on Sunday morning, which all the more abrupt when you were thinking that checkout was at noon, and you've already lounged around until just past eleven.
Before arriving home to who-knows-what, we picked up my son, and went out to lunch at the Ram Brewery & Restaurant, situated on the west side of the beautiful Northgate Mall. Today being Halloween, many of the waitresses were scantily dressed in some type of costume, be it a tigress, or some leather-clad hooker. It just so happens that our waitress was dressed as a waitress. We ordered our usual helpings of meat and fried foods, accompanied by sweetened and carbonated drinks. My son was obviously quite tired, which he usually is after spending any time with mommy. She doesn't believe in idle time, whereas daddy has mastered the art of idleness.
Tomorrow it is back to work at the bookstore. Monday means that I'll be working the day shift, 10:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.. Most likely I'll have lots of books to shelve, since being away four consecutive days. And being a creature of habit, I'll most likely have lunch at Bagel Oasis, just down the street from the bookstore. I'll have my usual two everything bagels, toasted, with one schmear of veggie cream cheese shared between the two. Then I stand back and watch what how close the young workers behind the counter come to getting my order to me correctly. I would say that their success rate is less than fifty percent. Lucky for me, those are percentage points that I can afford to do without. Regular cream cheese instead of veggie? No problem. Forgot to toast the bagels? Not an issue. I can chew. Maybe next time you'll get it right. The odds are against it though.