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Tag Archives: imaginary critics

Ready for the Sweats and the Wine

I can’t have Sunday Cinema; I’ve only watched two movies so far and I’m on to Snapped.  I suppose I could watch a third movie and then post, but I want to get this done.  As  I mentioned yesterday, I have knitting to do.  I also want to get back into my sweats.  Well, that is silly of me; I could put the sweats on and then make the post.  No, make the post now before I talk myself out of it.

Some might advise me to stop being a daily blogger if it is such a chore.  I would argue (if I was any good at argument, which I am not) that some things are worth doing even if they are a chore.  They would no doubt reply (I told you I was no good at argument) that most of my posts are probably not worth the effort.  I advise them to seek out more worthy blogs and to leave me alone.  Yes, I have numerous arguments with imaginary critics.

As you may have guessed, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

Sometimes I feel like this when I try to sleep.

Earlier, before I was ready to swoon on the chaise and was actually having a pretty good day, we watched The Tingler (1959), produced and directed by William Castle and starring Vincent Price.  I LOOOOVE William Castle movies!  I do not have enough of them on DVD.

She has got his number!

After The Tingler, Steven suggested His Girl Friday (1941).  Rosalind Russell and Cary Grant, snappy dialogue, a fast moving script, it was an excellent suggestion.  I missed parts of it while I fixed us something to eat then made my salad for the week’s lunches, but I have seen it many times before and will no doubt watch it again.

After the movie, I wrote some post cards and walked to the post office with them.  I felt quite virtuous doing this, since I had gone for a long (for me) run this morning.  Come December, I will OWN that Reindeer Run 5K.  And by “own” of course I mean shuffle along toward the back of the pack and enjoy myself.

So I am feeling moderately less wrist-to-foreheady since I see I am over 350 words and I don’t feel this is too heinous of a post.  I think I deserve to put on my sweats and maybe have a glass of wine.  Happy Sunday, everyone.

 

I Did the Damn Dishes!

It is Wrist to Forehead Sunday indeed.  I return to work tomorrow after two weeks off.  YES (with eyes rolling), I am GRATFUL I have a job and YES I am GRATEFUL I got a vacation, some people just can’t bear to hear anybody else complain about anything.  Sheesh!

Be all that as it may, I need to make a blog post before returning to enjoying what is left of my vacation and my Sunday.  I must say, I am really looking forward to next Friday, when it will really be Friday for me.  This past Friday, it being the last “real” day of vacation (since I normally have weekend off) (don’t hate), it felt not as delightful as a Friday ought, by rights, to feel.  But, again, be that as it may, on with the blog post.

I have long felt that there was no point in trying to get anything done on a Sunday.  Some Sunday I lament this, others I embrace the uselessness.  Today I actually did a few thing.  I took a short run (which, truth be known, I often do, even on the most useless of Sundays), I did the dishes, I did a load of laundry AND folded two baskets of previously done laundry, I laid out three outfits for work (I need five to get me through the week, but I only have so many pairs of work pants) (and I’ve gained weight, so they don’t all fit), I put away the dishes after the air and patience had dried them.

That is more than I have accomplished on previous Sundays.  However, as I typed in the preceding paragraph, I realized there are a number of areas where some reader (or the critics in my head) could judge me.  For example, why was there a pile of dishes to do first thing in the morning?  Why was there laundry previously washed but still waiting to be folded?  Why did I not immediately dry and put away the dishes, and where do I get off counting that as another chore and not part of “doing the dishes” as a normal person would?

To any such judgmental sorts, I explain, “Shut up!”  mentally thanking S.J. Perelman as I do so.    I see now I am over 350 words.  I call that respectable for Wrist to Forehead Sunday.  I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow for what I hope is not too Melancholy of a Monday.