- ...you decide to make your fantasy of having milk+cereal for dinner a reality, and drag your lazy ass to the supermarket to buy all the necessary accoutrements, and then finally get home only to realize you've forgotten to buy the milk, but by the time you realize this you've already changed into your "house clothes" (read: muumuu) and are too lazy to head back out again?
- ...the bartender tries to pass off Rose's lime juice as fresh-squeezed lime juice?
- ...your on-shuffle ipod gifts you with "Saving all My Love for You" and you remember how awesome Whitney Houston used to be in the days before Bobby Brown, crack-is-cheap, and doody bubbles?
- ...how short people will never ever be able to carry off the wide-legged trouser look?
- ...a crowd of loud, unruly teenagers gets on your subway car, and you sit there silently muttering to yourself how they should just shut their obnoxious pie holes because no one cares what they have to say, and then you realize that you were just as loud - if not louder - when you were their age, and then you feel retroactive regret for being so annoying back then?
- ...you judge people who confuse "they're" for "there" for "their," and then realize that you've just made that same mistake and that maybe you need to stop being such a little snot?
- ...real estate agents invent absurd new neighborhood names like LoHo and the Sun Slope?*
- ...realize that network TV no longer shows cartoons on Saturday mornings, and then get stoopidly nostalgic for the days of watching the Smurfs, Bernstein Bears, Alvin and the Chipmunks, and Punky Brewster while downing bowl after bowl of Luck Charms and doding your mom's orders to do your chores?**
- ...when A-Rod does anyting praiseworthy, because you detest him with a passion and think there was never a more apt description of him than as "a giant orange-colored dildo?"
- ...when it's so consistently freaking humid and hot outside that you are forced to be on permanent migration watch?
Enjoy your weekends, babies.
Tomorrow I will be running in the Percy Sutton Harlem 5k with my friend The Prince Lover***, praying the skies don't open up on us and looking forward to the mimosas and muffins we'll be having after the race.
** Not that I ever didn't do my chores. My mom is-was-will always be scary.
*** I'm serious. She loves his Purple Highness like no other.
© Chommo, 2009