No pressure over cappucino

So, how did you spend your weekend? Was it productive? Was it lazy? Or was it like mine?

You know when everyone at work gathers Monday morning in the breakroom pouring a cup of coffee or stuffing $1 bill into the coke machine and you start the "weekend in review" conversation where everyone rattles of what they did with their 48 hours of freedom. Some took weekend trips to historic places. Another volunteered her time making homemade muffins at a homeless shelter. Another spent "quality" time with her family. Then it's your turn and for the life of you, you cannot recall anything to share. You got nothing. Everyone just nods sadly when you say in response, "Oh, nothing much" and you tag on, "It was too short. I need another day" in an effort to deflect the attention. Did you need another day, apparently you didn't do much with the ones they gave you, right?

Do I really want to share that I alphabetized our 1,500 CDs by artist?

Do they care that I finally found a new pair of tennis shoes and that I was tempted to burn the old ones in homage to the aerobic gods hoping that they would inspire me to visit the Y at least three times a week?

Think anyone is interested in the fact that we spent the better part of a day strategizing the installation of new door knobs?

Do I want to share that I watched "Clean Sweep" and wondered if I could mess up my house enough just to get Eric Strummer to build me some kinda awesome, large organizational solution for everything I own?

Do they wanna hear that I watched "One True Thing" for about the 1,000th time and cried at exactly the same moments?

I wish they'd be amazed that I finally captured a shot of my cat in the sink for the funny, funny site, but I don't think I'd get an interested look out of the bunch. (Yes, this site makes me giggle and if you go there and don't chuckle, something is wrong with you.)

Would they be surprised to learn that I craved crab cakes, so we ventured out tired from a long week just so I could have them?

Maybe they'd light up when I described my trip to Sam's and my awe at the candy aisle?

Think maybe they want to know my ponderings of an Ipod?

Perhaps they would care if I said that I got my feelings hurt and I am trying to get over it without doing lots of laundry and yelling at my loving boyfriend (who wasn't the culprit)?

I seriously doubt that they give a rat's arse that I (actually Cynical did it all by himself) finally put the new vanity plate that my (loving, thoughtful) buddies gave me on the new car?

I am positive that they don't care that I finally switched purses.

Maybe they care that I finally downloaded the photos from the new camera and that I thought most of them sucked.

I think it's best for me just to say, "Nothing much. . . that sure was a short one" and let the lady that painted her entire living room, the other girl that sky-dived and the co-op student that went to four concerts have their turn.

The first photo was taken at Sam's in the candy aisle. I was in shock and awe and had to be forceably removed. The second is Eli curled up in the bathroom sink in hopes that I wouldn't catch Cynical giving him a little drink from the faucet. They think I don't know their little secret, but the kitty hair, paw prints and continual crying each time I approach the sink gave them away. I have my ways, so don't try it again.