I don't know what the title of this blog post means, but I think it might mean that I would rather stay home today, smoke a few bowls, listen to music, and get further into the novel I just started. Those are pretty much my desires for every damn day though, not just Tuesdays. But -- This being Tuesday -- I don't have to arrive at the bookstore until 2pm, so that gives me time to...well, to goof off. It also gives me time to write some emails and a blog post. Those feel like minor accomplishments in a day full of minor accomplishments.
We returned home Sunday afternoon from our two-day camping trip to Orcas Island. As with most trips involving family, it was not without it's eye-rolling snafus. First off we missed the 10:40 am ferry, so we had to wait five hours for the next ferry. Yes, five hours! At that point I suggested that we might want to head south to a closer campground and get to it, but my stepson had been planning this trip for a while, and when I say planning I'm talking about minutia, graphs and charts...the whole nine yards. It also rained during our trip, but considering the forecast was for nothing but rain, we had plenty of time without the wetness of the Pacific northwest dripping upon our heads.
We had three tents set up on a hill overlooking Mountain Lake in Moran State Park on Orcas Island. I love camping, but I camp to get away from people, so it's always a little annoying when the sites are adjacent to each other without much brush to separate them. In other words, not a lot of privacy. Plus, there must have been a half dozen dogs at this particular campground and, needless to say, they didn't all get along. I'm all for bringing your dog along on camping excursions, but I spend my week listening to the hounds next door, barking at every cough and fart on the street. Ugh!
Even with the ferry delay, rain and the dogs though, we had a great time. We grilled steaks and chicken one night. Many, many marshmallows and s'mores were heated and consumed. My two step-kids Collin and Chloe were brave enough to jump into the frigid waters of Mountain Lake. My eight-year-old son, who is an uncle to my grandson, had a great time in the woods as all kids do. I had originally been planning on going on another camping trip this coming weekend, but starring only my wife and myself. No siblings teasing each other. No rain, because naturally I would pre-order idyllic weather for my own camping trip. No dogs. Only the fair creatures of the forest, frolicking safely within our view. Oh, and plenty of time to read.
My planned trip for the coming weekend is not going to come to fruition unfortunately, because my boss is a curmudgeon and claims I don't have the time to take. All I need is 8 hours and I already have just over 4, but who's counting? Well, evidently someone is counting, and the resultant number of vacation hours has not come out in my favor. My back-up plan though is just to take however many hours I have by this coming Monday. I will get at least half the day off and the following day, so that's not all bad. Part of the issue here is that I volunteered to work this Saturday -- during our big twice annual 40% off all used books sale -- and I have Tuesday off in exchange. Naturally I schemed to take Monday off too, figuring on turning lemons into lemonade, or in this case, a fucked up weekend into a three-day weekend. I mean, who wants to have Sunday off, work Monday and then have Tuesday off? Not me. Not when I can have my cake and eat it too!
So, I just have to figure out the correct wording to ask the curmudgeon for at least half the day off this coming Monday. It's not like I'd be leaving them in the lurch. It would be after the sale, and I know that they have plenty of coverage on Mondays. Enough whining about work. Now I have to actually think about going to work. I haven't had bagels in over a week, so I think I'll make that my first stop on the way to my eight hour shift. Maybe the sun will be peeking through the greyness by then.