The only downside to a trip back to Iowa is that the better the weekend, the tougher it is to return to Minnesota. I swear time just works differently at the end of a good weekend. The same drive on that long, boring stretch of I-35 seems to take an eternity when headed northbound...
It was a very relaxing weekend. Rather than try to describe it in words, I'll use a single picture that will sum up the way I felt better than the world's longest paragraph. Now this is relaxing:
But Sunday night is upon me once again, and it's back to reality. I'm staring down five full and busy days of work, including an all-day meeting tomorrow. The week's worth of cooking that is usually completed by this time of night is just beginning, and the stove will be working overtime to get ready for Monday morning:
And speaking of food, breakfast will look downright depressing this week after this morning's Easter feast. I'm sure glad Jebus won that battle with Goliath 700 years ago, because this tasted even better than it looked:
Sunday nights are rough enough after a normal weekend, but holiday weekends out of town exaggerate the negativity. And I'll never understand why the apartment always has that strange, musty smell every time I'm gong overnight...I have a hard time believing that it actually smells better when I'm here...or maybe I'm just used to it. I guess it's one of those mysteries that will remain forever unsolved. My one and only source of optimism this evening is the first ESPN Sunday Night Baseball game of the season:
I have little to no interest in either the White Sox or the Rangers, but for some reason, the voice of Dan Shulman calling a baseball game in the background as I prepare for Monday has a very calming effect on me. Maybe it's a reminder that winter is over...but for now, I have twelve pounds of boiling chicken to attend to as I try to block Monday out of my mind.