I think we had a decently productive final weekend of September. If not productive, it was at least enjoyable.
Friday was a no-fun day for me at work, topped off with an even less-fun drive home. And the cherry on top of the rotted sundae was that I forgot to hide our kitchen garbage can, so I was welcomed home by garbage spread around the kitchen and living room. Lovely.
Rob got home to a grumpy wife, but that grumpy wife put the grumpiness aside for him to bang on his drums (not the most pleasant experience for me most times). While he banged, I contemplated whether I should be a good eater and not gorge on some good, old-fashioned comfort food or just go all out and find satisfaction in sustenance.
If you know me, you already know I went for the good stuff. And not the good-for-my-ass stuff. The good-for-my-tastebuds stuff. Red Robin, to be exact.
After we ate, we headed back home for some comfier clothes (aka elastic bands) and “The Number 23” (which, by the way, wasn’t nearly as good as dinner).
Saturday consisted of mowing the yard, changing my name at the bank, Arby’s, Target and a nap (for me). Dinner was leftovers, then we headed to SCarowinds where we got ripped off (apparently the season pass is only good for Carowinds, not SCarowinds. Duh.). But we hung out with Marcie and Adam, rode a couple rides and tried to be scared in the haunted houses. Fun was had by all.
As for Sunday, I can say that I successfully stayed in my jammies all day. But I did finally edit a batch of photos I’ve been meaning to work on, did a load of laundry, and Rob and I made a rocking dinner of maple-glazed pork chops and chili-garlic roasted broccoli.
We capped off the weekend by watching “Knocked Up,” which I must admit was much better than Friday’s movie. Despite the fact that I saw more of some woman’s hoo-ha than I cared to. Ah, well.
