The weekend is upon us, which means people are talking with each other about their weekend plans—going out, heading up to the lake for one last weekend, getting together with friends and gossiping about the friends that aren’t out with them, too.
Truth be told, I hate being asked what I’m doing because it’s usually comparably lame. While I enjoy being social in small doses, I get more excited about plans being cancelled than I would if I actually participated in the plans. My perfect weekend is usually spent outside, putzing around the house, watching the games and generally not having to be anywhere at any time.
In other words, just like I’ll never have a cooking show, I will never have a reality show.
And thank goodness for Twitter, because I can prove my point with actual tweets from this past weekend. Now keep in mind that these aren’t all my tweets. I did do actual stuff that went undocumented and I only tweet from my computer and not a phone super glued to my hand, but they give you a general chronological idea of how my Friday through Sunday was spent—in 140 characters or less.
Yes, thank you everyone for reminding me it’s Friday and you’re happy. In other news, restaurants serve food.
It’s probably not a good things to have left the house wondering if you remembered to put makeup on.
It’s Friday. I’m going on a bender of the cleaning variety. This is why I don’t have a reality show.
Forgetting to ventilate makes bonding with Scrubbing Bubbles much more interesting.
Stretching and carbo loading for the game tonight. You know, the one I’m going to sit on my ass and watch for three hours. #MLB
I would be a social butterfly if it didn’t involve other people. And bras.
Her cat’s on a leash, yet the children run free. Something’s wrong with this picture.
If you steal my tomatoes, I will steal your tomatoes. You’ve been warned, crazy chain-smoking neighbor lady. You’ve been warned.
Maybe it’s because I’m Polish, but I think babushkas need to make a comeback. #NatalieDee
Even though I love them, steamed Brussel sprouts totally smell like urine.
It’s raining and I feel lazy. I can’t be certain, but I think there might be a correlation.
It stopped raining, so I have no excuse to be lazy. However, now back-to-back ballgames are on. I’m officially dating my couch.
Why are your teeth on the table? Don’t throw ham! Hold it until we get back to your room! Did you just pinch me? Old people are exhausting.
Watched a squirrel for 10 minutes. Thought "Wow, squirrels are so easily entertained." Realized I just watched a squirrel for 10 minutes.
Growing up on Disney movies has left me so disillusioned about small woodland creatures and their willingness to help me with my chores.
I don’t know what makes me sadder to see on my walk–road kill or a dropped and melted ice cream cone.
Apparently two allergy pills have the same effect as two Vodka gimlets on my ass. I will not be operating heavy machinery.
I can’t be sure, but I think there’s a blue cardinal at my bird feeder. #Iamthebirdwhisperer
I’m beginning to resent the birds and squirrels for their entitlement issues via the feeder.
Tomorrow is the one week anniversary of my 30th birthday. In lieu of cards and gifts, just send cash.
So as you can see, unless I add in a cupcake competition with midgets and choreographed dance numbers, I don’t think I’ll be getting my own show any time soon. But I’m okay with that, seeing as it would probably involve makeup and interrupt my standing Friday night date at the grocery store.
Plus, dozens would be lost without my minimal presence on “The Twitter” and updates on small woodland creatures treating my fountain like a day spa.
What can I say (in 140 characters or less)?
I won’t hypocritically ask you what you’re doing this weekend, but feel free to tell me what you’re looking forward to—even if it’s just doing nothing. However, I do want to know:
“If you had a reality show, what would it be called?”