Burned.

I've been a little MIA from the blogosphere lately, and I know my 2 readers (myself and Mary) are very upset about that. This whole working-40-hours-a-week-only-getting-paid-for-20 thing has rendered me exhausted. I have worked this much in the past (helloooo last summer!) but I never really had a commute, plus I worked at K-Pool for one of my three jobs so that was stress relief. I also have a class Mondays and Wednesdays after my internship which is just another time suck. Whatever. It just means I'm crabby all the time and never want to go anywhere, which saves me money.

Let's see, this weekend was NICE. Friday after work I zoomed home, changed, and then Dan and I took off downtown to go to the Tigers' game. We are pretty much awesome because we just bought a 6 pack and a hot dog before we went down there and spent $8 total, which is what you spend for ONE BEER there. So that was fun. Cabrera hit 3 home runs and yet we STILL lost. Dan was a little mad because we missed the Polish-American Night festivities because I was too slow drinking my beers in the parking garage. WHAT EVER. Haha.

After that we headed over to Matt's because of course Alex was over there, and we hung out and listened to Alex complain about how his testicles hurt, so there were a ton of tasteless jokes all night. Glorious.

Saturday morning after my BITCHING hangover (a.k.a. about 2pm) I took off to go up north for the extended weekend. It was hot. Very, very, hot. I arrived at my cottage at about 4:30pm, sat outside for an hour and had a pink face. The next day I put on SPF 30 (mind you, I was already burned from last week) and by the end of the day I was a lobster once again. Although this time since I was in a bathing suit it's a little less patchy. CLOTHING IS VERY PAINFUL RIGHT NOW.

So the weekend up at the cottage was great, I did a whole lot of nothing. Boat rides, laying around, eating, drinking. I read the Beggar's Opera. Which I was supposed to read about 7 months ago. Well, I had read most of it, but had never finished it, so I just read the whole thing over again from start to finish. It's funny. And in my head all the airs are Queen songs.

"Thus when a good Huswife sees a Rat

In her Trap in the Morning taken,
With Pleasure her Heart goes pit-a-pat,
In Revenge for her loss of Bacon.
Then she throws him
To the Dog or Cat
To be worried, crush'd and shaken."

(Sing that in your head to the tune of "Fat Bottomed Girls".)

Now, although I got a day off from my internship and school, I'm back to the daily grind of working at school. No one is here. I am alone. LOVELY.