How was your weekend? Isn't that such an odd question? There's really no good way to answer it. Unless of course something really fabulous happened, like you got married in Vegas, or got invited to a major movie premier, or maybe got pulled up on stage at a Rolling Stone concert. But more often than not it's usually just a one word answer. Good. Or maybe, if you did something slightly interesting, pretty good.
It's become the obligatory question on a Monday morning that makes us all feel inadequate. You have to stop and think, how did I spend all that free time? On a weeknight, there's no scrutiny when you have a bowl of ice cream, watch a TV show or two and hit the sack early. But on a weekend, aren't we supposed to do something? Even though, deep down, all we really want to do is take multiple naps?
It's easy to feel guilty when you're talking to one of those superstars that spend the weekend running a marathon or solving an eight hundred year old murder. But at the same time, you don't want to get caught talking to that poor soul who goes on and on about how they spent the entire weekend making an egg salad sandwich ala The 40 Year Old Virgin. (Even though, let's face it, they do make you feel pretty good about your own life). What's to become of this question? Either we need to stop asking, and leave each other's weekends shrouded in mystery, or we need to start getting out there and actually doing some stuff.
This leaves me with a bit of a conundrum. I'm a big fan of doing nothing and taking multiple naps on weekends, but at the same time, I don't see us giving up the whole "how was your weekend?" ice breaker. How else are you going to start a conversation with your coworkers on a Monday morning? If we stop asking, will the laws of society break down? Will we descend into anarchy? Maybe. But I still don't see myself giving up on weekend naps.
Maybe we need a new question. Something more specific. Perhaps, on Monday mornings, when you and a coworker catch yourselves hanging out at the water cooler, you should try something different. Something like, "So, did you kill anyone this weekend?" That way, you still have an ice breaker with your coworker, without having to hear about how they built houses for the homeless or made an especially complicated turkey sandwich, and they get to feel good knowing they didn't spend their weekend committing murder. And, if by chance they did kill someone and confess, you can report them to the police and become a hero. It's win win for everyone! (Except of course for the coworker who murdered someone, but really that's their punishment for murder).
What do you think? Have I solved yet another problem for society, as well as possibly future murders? What question do you think should replace the standard, "how was your weekend?" Share it in the comment section below.
Showing posts with label weekend plans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weekend plans. Show all posts
Monday, February 25, 2013
Monday, December 10, 2012
Monday Morning Blues
Have you ever had one of those days (or in my case, weekends) where just nothing goes according to plan? As you can probably guess, I just did. Not that I had especially productive or sensational plans for this past weekend. All I wanted to do was stay in and read.
On Friday, I stopped by the library to return a book and ten of my requests had come in. Feeling like I'd won the lottery, I checked them out and hauled them to the car, anxious to get home and spend the entire weekend inside a good book. That did not happen.
Instead, I spent almost half the weekend trying to eat breakfast. It started on Saturday, with my ill fated decision to try the new Cora's that had just opened. They were so disorganized, with no system of being able to put your name down for a table and having them get a hold of you when it was ready. You just had to stand in line and wait. Outside. In -27 degrees celcius. For at least forty five minutes. Um, no.
So, we decided we'd head over to Truffles. Half way there I remembered that it was Saturday, and they only have brunch on Sunday. No problem. I'd call Poached. As luck would have it, they had two tables left, but unfortunately I couldn't reserve one over the phone. Taking our chances, we drove to Poached, hitting every single red light on the way. When we got there, they had only one table left and it was the worst one in the restaurant. It sat directly in front of the door, not even two feet away. At this point we were famished and in terrible moods, so we agreed glumly to the awful table and proceeded to have breakfast. At no point did we take off our coats, and my husband kept his toque on the entire time.
The next day, we managed to wake up far earlier. Surely, there wouldn't be a long wait so early at Cora's this time. Wrong. Although we were able to get in the first set of doors, we spent forty five minutes crammed into the tiny entrance way with eighteen other people, only slightly warmer than if we'd been forced to wait outside. When we finally made it through the second pair of doors and into the actual restaurant, we still had to wait as no one seemed to be showing anyone to a table. When we were finally seated, I will admit that our server was incredibly attentive, but the food just wasn't good enough to make up for the long, cold wait. My toes were freezing the entire time and the smoked salmon eggs benedict were just not up to snuff. I'd had far better at Calories, and they at least took reservations.
Each time we went for breakfast, it had eaten up at least half the day and most of the rest was spent running errands on roads so slippery they had me white-knuckling the steering wheel.
Of course, it wasn't all bad. On Saturday night we went to see Life of Pi and it was incredible. They did a fantastic job translating such an amazing book to screen. The visuals were stunning. And on Sunday night we had dinner at my parents house, which was delicious. So, the weekend wasn't a complete loss by any means, but I was so disappointed that my own plans fell through. I wasn't able to finish a single book and now the work week stretches ahead like an unending ocean. I know there's another weekend just beyond the horizon, but I just can't see it yet. (If you're wondering, the lesson here is to just stay home and make your own breakfast. It's faster, tastier and you don't have to leave the house.)
On Friday, I stopped by the library to return a book and ten of my requests had come in. Feeling like I'd won the lottery, I checked them out and hauled them to the car, anxious to get home and spend the entire weekend inside a good book. That did not happen.
Instead, I spent almost half the weekend trying to eat breakfast. It started on Saturday, with my ill fated decision to try the new Cora's that had just opened. They were so disorganized, with no system of being able to put your name down for a table and having them get a hold of you when it was ready. You just had to stand in line and wait. Outside. In -27 degrees celcius. For at least forty five minutes. Um, no.
So, we decided we'd head over to Truffles. Half way there I remembered that it was Saturday, and they only have brunch on Sunday. No problem. I'd call Poached. As luck would have it, they had two tables left, but unfortunately I couldn't reserve one over the phone. Taking our chances, we drove to Poached, hitting every single red light on the way. When we got there, they had only one table left and it was the worst one in the restaurant. It sat directly in front of the door, not even two feet away. At this point we were famished and in terrible moods, so we agreed glumly to the awful table and proceeded to have breakfast. At no point did we take off our coats, and my husband kept his toque on the entire time.
The next day, we managed to wake up far earlier. Surely, there wouldn't be a long wait so early at Cora's this time. Wrong. Although we were able to get in the first set of doors, we spent forty five minutes crammed into the tiny entrance way with eighteen other people, only slightly warmer than if we'd been forced to wait outside. When we finally made it through the second pair of doors and into the actual restaurant, we still had to wait as no one seemed to be showing anyone to a table. When we were finally seated, I will admit that our server was incredibly attentive, but the food just wasn't good enough to make up for the long, cold wait. My toes were freezing the entire time and the smoked salmon eggs benedict were just not up to snuff. I'd had far better at Calories, and they at least took reservations.
Each time we went for breakfast, it had eaten up at least half the day and most of the rest was spent running errands on roads so slippery they had me white-knuckling the steering wheel.
Of course, it wasn't all bad. On Saturday night we went to see Life of Pi and it was incredible. They did a fantastic job translating such an amazing book to screen. The visuals were stunning. And on Sunday night we had dinner at my parents house, which was delicious. So, the weekend wasn't a complete loss by any means, but I was so disappointed that my own plans fell through. I wasn't able to finish a single book and now the work week stretches ahead like an unending ocean. I know there's another weekend just beyond the horizon, but I just can't see it yet. (If you're wondering, the lesson here is to just stay home and make your own breakfast. It's faster, tastier and you don't have to leave the house.)
Monday, November 19, 2012
The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men...
This was my plan for this weekend:
- Get up reasonably early
- Clean the house (it's disgusting)
- Catch up on the ridiculous amount of laundry littered throughout the house
- Walk the dog
- Blog
- Edit manuscript
- Help my sister get ready for a craft fair next weekend
This is how my weekend actually went:
- Friday at work develop a dry cough
- Get home from work and notice my throat is really sore.
- Make pad thai and decide that a good night's sleep will cure what ails me
-Wake up Saturday morning feeling like death warmed over
- Spend the entire day in and out of consciousness on the couch, eating oranges and ingesting liquids. Get exactly nothing done
-Wake up Sunday feeling mildly better, feel accomplished for having taken a shower.
- Go to sister's house where I accomplish a mild amount of helping
- Return home, put in a load of laundry, decide I'm Superwoman and deserve a nap on the couch
- Get up reasonably early
- Clean the house (it's disgusting)
- Catch up on the ridiculous amount of laundry littered throughout the house
- Walk the dog
- Blog
- Edit manuscript
- Help my sister get ready for a craft fair next weekend
This is how my weekend actually went:
- Friday at work develop a dry cough
- Get home from work and notice my throat is really sore.
- Make pad thai and decide that a good night's sleep will cure what ails me
-Wake up Saturday morning feeling like death warmed over
- Spend the entire day in and out of consciousness on the couch, eating oranges and ingesting liquids. Get exactly nothing done
-Wake up Sunday feeling mildly better, feel accomplished for having taken a shower.
- Go to sister's house where I accomplish a mild amount of helping
- Return home, put in a load of laundry, decide I'm Superwoman and deserve a nap on the couch
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
