I made my deadline for my museum writing project. Those were some long nights and days. And my boss already told me she really liked my draft, hooray. Now I await its return from the other reviews (covered with comments and rewrites, but I can turn off my ego in these situations).
It's not due to arrive until late Monday, so I have a three-day weekend free to.... stay indoors, out of the heat wave, messing around on my laptop — exactly what I'd be doing if I were working. I hate going out when it's in the 90s. I've abandoned my longstanding, 10,000-steps-a-day routine this week. I'll make up those missing steps with walks to the North End in the fall, when it's cool and I'm unemployed again.
But I shouldn't waste this weekend sitting at this desk. I need to catch up on a few things, and then I'm going to figure out how to get outside and enjoy the way New England has turned into an oven. Maybe I'll play under the garden hose. I need to drag my husband out, too. He's more chained to his laptop than I am. But even if we stay in, there are a few summery things I plan to do:
I have a fluffy "summer novel" from the library, so I'll read it in bed, under the ceiling fan, in hopes that Harris and Possum will curl up next to me, as they sometimes do.
I also have a little basket of peaches I'm looking forward to, once they're ripe. They'll taste like July.
I'll give myself a pedicure and paint my toes swimming-pool blue.
And my husband bought me a terrific present in Newport last week. I've been waiting to unwrap and hang it until I finished my project, so now I can. I'll post a photo soon.
I also need to show you what I saw at the Brimfield Antiques Fair last weekend.
In the meantime, I leave you with this thought: