Friday
- Too busy at work to play practice round for big tournament, cancel on guys I am supposed to meet at 2:15.
- Be pissed off about it, not get out of work til 6:00, skip going to have beer at the country club or at Jimmy's birthday party, go to Applebees to have a beer, go home and work on house til 1:00 AM since fucking handyman didn't finish trim Friday as promised.
Saturday
- Wake up early for handyman to show up. He is late AGAIN.
- Work on house while he is working until golf tournament at 11:00.
- Play not so good and shoot worst round of the year because I didn't go to practice round (see above) to find out that they cut the greens so short that putts roll right off the fucking green.
- 3-putt more times in one day than I did the rest of the month. Check phone to find hysterical messages from wife because handyman did a shit job and got caulk on a lot of the BRAND NEW PAINT JOBS we just did in two rooms.
- And she had to call him back to fix a bunch of nail holes he didn't fill in.
- And she had to call him back to fix the giant gouge his too-long nail left in the bathroom sliding door.
- Go home to spend rest of night painting instead of staying to drink beer after first day of tournament.
Sunday
- Wake up early for about the 15th day in a row since we started working on the house.
- Do a little more repair work (fucking handyman fucker...).
- Go to golf tournament and proceed to have an even worse day, shooting 8 strokes worse than worst round of year mentioned above.
- 3-putt an equal amount of times, now bringing the weekend total to more 3-putts than the previous 2 months combined.
- Drink beers, strain muscle in my hand hitting out of hard ground in hazard and have to play the last 4-5 holes even shittier than before.
- Dent shin running into a sand container while hitting a practice shot on the 3rd hole while returning my dad's cart (I actually hit the thing so hard with my shin that I knocked it over, and it must have weighed 50-100 lbs.), find out my KP didn't hold up, drink beer and eat BBQ, find out at least I didn't get dead fucking last, and go home.
- Work on house and hook back up electrical work and move furniture back into newly trimmed rooms while watching the Emmys.
Nate, even with that hangover, I will trade you weekends.
1 comment:
You left out the part where your wife turned down 2 tickets to Dave Matthews at the Gorge next weekend (Sat the 2nd to be exact) because you guys have volleyball. I'm sensing a trend here with the volleyball. When someone says, "Do you want to do (insert anything here)?" You say, "No, we've got volleyball that weekend." On that note - if you know anyone who would be interested in purchasing the tix for a lowered price...let me know - Pat & I will not be going. We've got volleyball. :) Just kidding, we're not that lame.
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