What are you going to do with your Saturday?

I have been asked this question multiple times this past week. Each time I found it difficult to answer, because it's sort of a loaded question. If I respond with the truth, "Same thing I do every other day because I'm on summer vacation and have no responsibilities in life and can do whatever I please," this could be met with, a bit of, ooooh... hostility. However, if I answer with the fair and truthful, but unattractive, "Oh. Run some errands, clean up the house. Maybe take the dog on a run, or do a little gardening - maybe some book reading," I can quickly see the look in their eyes change from the excited "this-girl-has-endless-possibilities-of-fun-having-to-be-had-on-this-Saturday", to the feared, "oh-my-dear-sweet-Lord-your-life-is-really-much-more-dull-than-I-had-anticipated". 

What am I supposed to do lie? I mean if I had "endless-possibilities-of-fun-having-to-be-had" don't you think that I might have already shared them with you? So if at this point I've not mentioned anything earth shatteringly incredible that I will be spending my Saturday doing, you can most likely assume that I will be doing what most people do on their Saturdays - a little bit of "weekend work" and a little bit of "lounge about the house". 

So obviously now, all you can think is, "Sooo... what are you going to do with your Saturday?" because you are, unequivocally, unable to stop yourself from asking this question - much like weather talk. Deep down, or maybe not so deep down, people do not like this question. "What are you going to do with your Saturday?" and all you can think is, "Aaah... not talk with you apparently". But, being the gracious, and patient, and kind person that I am, I shall indulge your terrible social awkwardness and invite you into the wild and wonderful world that is Saturday Errand Running. 

I woke up particularly early to pick up some friends and deposit (yes, deposit) them at the park-n-ride so that they could get themselves to the airport. Picked up a little coffee on my way home and had a visit with my husband before he went to bed (works overnight in the ED - gets home when other people get up). Then it was off to tackle the motherload, Target & Costco on a Saturday. Luckily, I was solo in my Saturday errand running and therefore had high hopes of being able to weave stealthily between large slow moving obstacles, be they lost children, or desperate mother's stocking up their pantries for Y2K. In Target I purchased a trendy little canvas bag so as to not kill polar bears, and ending up in a looping-gouge-your-eyes-out conversation with the lady at the check stand because she really wanted me to buy a different one that would fold up and fit in my purse. No amount of, "well I like this one, and it can also be folded into a much smaller size" type of argument was to be heard, nor was she to be diverted by any topic changing efforts on my part. Eventually I found myself just staring at her, not nodding, or agreeing, or making any kind of movement - just the blank stare, holding out my hand and wishing upon the golden calf of "crap you don't need to buy anyway" idol, that this woman would at some point hand me my receipt. In a clear moment of weakness on her part, she parted with the thin piece of paper, and I was out the door. Next stop Costco where I was harassed by multiple sample givers. At one point I actually found myself being yelled at because I would not take the dried blueberries, "BUT THEIR GOOD FOR YOOOOUUU!" he yelled as I bobbed and weaved my way through the monster mother carts. All in all I came out of Costco unscathed, mostly because they did not have the item I was needing to purchase and so I left quickly, with only a slight detour to buy a soda (You know, s-o-d-a, that evil thing that is killing all of America? I stopped for one. Because clearly I have a death wish.) Death drink in hand, I drove to the grocery store - picked up necessary item that Costco had been lacking in, and then made a quick (or what I had anticipated to be quick) stop at the bank to deposit some checks. As the teller is typing in who knows what she looks up at me and says, "Well - I can't deposit this one." pointing to one of the checks, "because they didn't finish putting in the date," I look, and what I see is this: 5/28/0_ and then an indiscernible next number that could have been interpreted as either another zero if we were still in the year 2000 OR as an 8 as any sane person would have assumed considering that it is unlikely that I've kept this $60.00 check for eight damn years. I look at the check, look at her and say, "Looks like an eight to me." She replies, "Well I can put it through, but if it's declined you will be charged a $31.00 fee." I smiled and thought, "No. That's fine. I'll just frame it and hope that one day it looks more like an eight." So after she deposited one of my checks I left, walked straight over to the ATM, fixed my indiscernible date issue, and deposited the check there. The whole time thinking - "They've got a serious flaw in their system here...". 

After my bank encounter I decided that I had clearly had it with customer service for the day and thought it best to just head home. Errand running ended. But for kicks and giggles I decided to get a little bit of gas because I couldn't think of a better way to spend that thirty bucks. I mean, except for giving it to that bank lady. 

I hadn't taken but two steps into our house when I realized that I hadn't taken the crap to be returned stuff with me when I ventured into the Saturday world this morning. Luckly me. Looks like I've saved something special to do later in the afternoon. Maybe I'll reward myself with a second death drink. Or perhaps with the destroyer of all elementry school children everywhere - the cupcake.