This weekend I am going to empty the last remaining boxes and hang stuff on the wall. I promise. This has to happen. I need to be moved in! I want to show you our apartment! Before we move to the next place and it’s like this place never even happened.
This weekend I’m also getting a massage. In a spa. An experience I have been obsessing over for weeks. A spa! With the rubbing! And the waterfall spa music! And the quiet! And being able to lay on my stomach without 1) a giant belly or 2) GIANT boobs killing me. I don’t think I will ever get over the joy of not being pregnant… even knowing I’ll be pregnant again one day. Sigh.
And then…this weekend we are also getting Gabe a passport. A passport for a baby, it seriously blows my mind. I didn’t get a passport until I was 20. I had already been to Canada a few times, but those times were before 9/11. And now my baby will have a passport. I keep talking about how this world is different. I talk about it in regards to money and opportunity and education. And about travel, about how the world is smaller and how having adventures is maybe easier… but somehow buying a house is much harder. There is a different post here for a different time, but right now I want to talk about this weekend.
This weekend I’m going to wish I didn’t have to go to work again on Monday. It’s going to be Sunday and I’m going to want to spend more time with my family, I’m going to want to spend more time on our apartment, on my writing, on long walks, I’m going to want to be with Kamel more and my job less. I don’t want to feel that way anymore, but there it is. The weekends are never long enough and I drag myself to work out of obligation, out of the necessity for a paycheck. It wasn’t always like that, but it is like that now. I’m trying to fix it.
This weekend can’t come soon enough.