In which I get an extra day off to play in a garage.

Saturday I took the day off work so I could do a gig. It was at a private party in a Morton building and it was cold once the sun went down and I schlepped gear and ate nothing but chips and potato salad all freakin’ day, but I still made more money than I would have if I’d spent the day at work. After the gig the drummer took me to the Milton-Freewater Supper Club, which hasn’t been remodeled since 1967 and is all red and retro and tacky and wonderful and I’m totally in love with it.

Sunday Gramma and I had a party basically so there’d be an excuse to make the “real old-fashioned two layer cake with homemade brown sugar frosting” we’ve been talking about for three months. In attendance were two aunts, two uncles, two dogs, two cousins, a second cousin, and two neighbors, and the official excuse was that it was a birthday celebration. The food was good (quiche, tossed salad, a fruit plate, cornbread, and chili) and the cake was awesome. I had a really good time.

I have decided that today will be a big fat movie fest, and I’ve been lying on my bed working my way through an entire spindle of DVDs a co-worker loaned me. It’s fuckin’ sweet.

Now I’m thinking of taking a $20 bill and walking over to Loney’s to buy delicious junk foods. Because I’m not afraid to get deep into the lazy decadence, oh no I ain’t.