Back to the boring weekends;  I guess I can’t go on Float Trip every week.  (Thank goodness.)  Not all bad though, and this week should start strong too.  I have a (very good) ticket to the Royal’s game today, and I think it’s going to stay dry.  (Jinx.)  As an added bonus, I found a long-forgotten high dollar cigar buried in the bottom of my humidor.  Ah yes, the potential exists for a nice day indeed.

This weekend was sort of a blur.  I worked some odd hours, which left me feeling rather jet-lagged.  Friday afternoon I headed down to the Brooksider to celebrate the belated arrival of warm weather.  I was late getting there, and by the time I showed up it looked like the better part of the city had the same idea.  Luckily I found some friendly faces parked right in front of the TV, so I pulled up a chair with them and watched the rest of the Royals game.  Good stuff, it’s always exciting (and rare) to see them score runs like that.  After the game I went back home and made some tasty tacos, courtesy of a left-over steak I found in the ‘fridge.  Movie night after that;  Not remarkably, I can’t remember what I watched, and highly doubt it was worth remembering anyway.

I laid low Saturday for most of the day.  Played a little ball with the dog, and dove into some lawn work.  First mowing of the season, ugh.  All downhill from here.  It’s been so long since I’ve mowed I forgot the cardinal rule of lawn maintenance:  Pick up the dog poop BEFORE mowing.  I guess the good news is, I no longer have to worry about picking it up, because it’s all either on my shoes or the mower wheels.  After that inspired effort, I watched the highly disappointing baseball game, then took a good nap to get ready for work.  Ahhhh, Saturday night work;  It can mess up my entire weekend.  What can you do.

Sunday I got home from work in the wee hours of the morning, grabbed a few hours of sleep, then my alarm went off at the unholy hour of 5:30.  I don’t set an alarm very often due to my old-man sleeping patterns, and when I do use it, it’s always a very confusing experience.  All I can figure out is that there is a very loud noise somewhere in the house.  I usually blame the dog first, then the cat, and by the time I figure out it’s coming from my phone it has stopped.  Although I identified the source of the offending noise, I still never realize what it means.  I’m just relieved that it stopped, and close my eyes again.  Ten minutes later, repeat same process.  Without Donette here to hit me with some large object, this cycle can sometimes repeat up to three or four times.  Sunday I figured it out on the second round though, which is lucky because I’d only allowed myself 30 minutes to get up, get ready, and meet Munkirs out in Overland Park.  We’d volunteered to work at a rest stop for the Brew to Brew run, which fell into the “It seemed like a good idea at the time” category.  Eh, it was OK I guess.  I’m not sure I fully understand why they wanted us to show up at 07:00 when there was no possible way any runners would be there before 09:00, but whatever.  It wasn’t too bad, and passed the time.  Munkirs and I took the arduous role of parking attendants, which was infinitely more complex than I anticipated.  Much as the volunteer coordinator had predicted, there were far more vehicles than I would have ever guessed.  Geez I thought it was a RUN, not a Sunday drive.  We made it through though, amusing ourselves by directing 500 cars into a state of total gridlock.  I ran into quite a few people I knew too, some of whom I hadn’t seen for a very long time.  I told most of them I had to volunteer as part of my work-release program.  In retrospect I probably should have followed that one up with a “Just kidding,” but oh well.  The traffic died down enough by noon that we decided to call it a day.  I took myself to lunch at 75th Street, and stayed around for the better part of the Royals game.  I had the not-so-brilliant idea to eat an entire pizza by myself during this time, which relegated me to the couch for the rest of the day.