It was the first Saturday since May when I wasn't expected to be working. I had big plans, involving Scott Simon's buttery radio voice. Coffee. Bed. Morning sunshine. Reading. And observing (from a distance) Burton's Saturday routine, which took shape during my absence and included a vacuum, Swiffers, a variety of earth-friendly cleaning products, bitchy Swedish mops, and the manliest of elbow grease.
But somehow, without my consent, Scott Simon had the day off (he's not gone, right? RIGHT?). There was no sunshine, on account of the SNOW THAT FELL ALL DAY LONG. And Burton informed me that the cleaning-routine offer expired when I stopped working Saturdays.
To that, I say pththbst.
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2 comments:
Lest anyone think Saturday was all misery, please be assured that I did take a break from fabricating Jen's new countertops to bring her a cappuccino in bed. And the new Swedish mop is the bomb.
True enough, but did I mention the SNOW?
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