I’ve successfully given myself too much to do this weekend.
I have to in no certain order: rotate my tires, change my oil, change the windshield wipers, go to Chestnut Hill to pick up some pants, and find a gym I like (as well as work out).
That may not sound like much, but getting father to do anything car related quickly is like wishing for the ability to fly, so I know I’m going to have to surrender the better part of 4 or 5 hours to the tire rotation alone. Add in the other couple tasks and there goes a whole day.
Traveling to Chestnut Hill will take a couple hours as well. I also have to hunt down the receipt for the pants so I can pick them up. They way mother puts things away, that alone could take a couple hours.
Also note the lack of anything fun in there. I haven’t even gotten to Friday and I’m already feeling like my weekend is over.
Update: I’ve now added seeing a Red Sox game on Friday night to my list of things to do. It’s something fun, but it’s killed any possibility of doing some of my errands on Friday. I’m just too popular.