THE ULTIMATE QUESTION?

Lately I've been working a little nine-to-five job at an art supply store in center city. My schedule varies from week to week so I often find myself working Saturday and/or Sunday. Most of my co-workers have similar schedules, yet I am regularly asked on any given Monday, "How was your weekend?" as if I either presumably had those days off to relax, or perhaps I saved some big plans for those two days specifically- because apparently that's how the majority of the population functions.
I just so happened to have what I referred to as a 'Charlie Brown Day' yesterday (Sunday) so when asked the cliché question "How was your weekend" by my unsuspecting co-worker, I really let 'em have it by verbally administering them with every misstep I experienced just 24 hours prior! The play-by-play of my weird day began Saturday night when, curiously enough, I had somehow begun to convince myself that I was not at all scheduled to work on the following Sunday. I went to bed at a decent hour and was up at a decent hour Sunday morning and wanted nothing more than to sit around all day in my pajamas while watching goofy science specials on cable TV. I was living this dream happily enough until I decided to check my work schedule to see when I was due in on Monday. There, on the schedule, next to my name, I noticed: Sunday March 6th 10-6. Instant confusion set in. How could it be 12 noon on Sunday March 6th, and I'm bumming around in my pajamas, but that schedule was telling me I have already been at work for the past two hours? I called my boss and confirmed that indeed I should have been at work! My boss claimed he hadn't called me to report my error because he's not my babysitter; but shoot, how did no one worry that I wasn't dead or something? Anyway, I rushed to get ready and made it to work by 1 o'clock. Now completely disoriented, and given odd jobs all day as a well deserved punishment for my lateness, my botched management of my life left me in a grumpy mood for the rest of my shift. I genuinely felt dumb because I ultimately let myself down.

Once my shift ended 5 hours later I rode my bike home through as heavy a rainstorm as rainstorms get. Soaked through to the insoles of my shoes, I turned down an invitation from my roommate to see John Zorn play live in a rare intimate venue. I couldn't bear going back out into the rain and my bad mood probably would have left much to be enjoyed at the show. Instead, I crawled into bed at 8:30 and promptly shut my eyes to the strange world that lead me there. I woke up at 11:30pm Sunday night sweating bullets. The heat was on too high in the house. I put hot water on for tea hoping it could make me fall back to sleep, but I found only caffeinated tea in the cabinets. I dumped the hot water down the drain and returned to bed. Once I managed to fall back asleep I dreamt that I was out at the bar playing pool with some friends. In the dream I was drunk and I could barely stand up straight and I repeatedly dropped my quarters from my fumbling hands; totally embarrassing myself! Around 2:30 am I wake up to the sound of my phone vibrating near my bed. I assumed this was my alarm going off which would mean it's 5:30 in the morning; Instead, my friend was on the other end telling me she's been awakened from her sleep to a feverish vomit session! Oh No! I talked her down from a state of emergency so that we could both attempt sleeping one more time. Finally my alarm did go off at 5:30am Monday morning and my new week has since begun.

I know those aren't significant problems to have, but that goofy series of events certainly put me in an odd and uncomfortable state, and I feel like I'm still recovering. Now... what should I plan for this weekend?