Plans B, C and D

The return to work is painful. Somehow when you mentally prepare for only two days, the two days seem to be jammed end to end with nothing but misery.  Short weeks have a way of cooking up and serving a heaping, steaming plate of crap.

The end of the first day back leaves me with a brimming breifcase of busy work and I decide to work from home the next day. I am visiting Charlotte and Jack tonight to bid farewell to my dear Godson, their middle son, Gray, who is leaving for college the following day.  I will be out too late, have more wine than I should and be in no mood to endure office nonsense up close. I can swear all I want in my livingroom.

Besides, it is Labor Day Weekend.  I'd originally thought that I'd get up early on Friday, drive to Scott's house at the shore, set up camp long before rush hour and beat the unGodly traffic in that direction at the end of the day. There is nothing I hate more than joining all of humanity in our collective impatience and sitting for hours in horrific traffic.

But I've changed my mind, because Scott's daughter, Abby, is getting a puppy.

Yes, a puppy.

And Scott needs another dog in the house like he needs an aneurysm.

But when she was out at the amusement park near Charlotte and Jack's cottage with her boyfriend, they'd seen a sign for Yorkie puppies and had decided to get one. A girl. A girl they are naming Cocoa.

So instead of bombing shoreward bound in the dawn's early light on Friday, I will be sitting at my desk at home until we dismiss early at 3. And shortly thereafter, I've arranged to go back to the darling cottage that Charlotte and Jack own, with Trinket in tow, to spend the evening in quiet solitude.  Saturday morning, Scott and the kids will join me and spend the night. The puppy can be adopted on Sunday and while they are going to pick her up a mere 10 miles away, I will be driving home with my pal Trinket, dropping her off at home only to bomb sans the usual traffic to Scott's house to enjoy the remainder of the weekend in the traditional manner.

All during the day, I am taking small two minute breaks to prepare to leave. A bag in the car. Cat provisions packed. A separate bag for work Tuesday.  I am in the car and on the road at 3:05.  Charlotte and Jack and two of their boys are on the road, too. Off to drop yet another wonderful young man off at college to become a more wonderful, refined version of his fabulous self.

I am there well before dark (there is no traffic in this direction. Ever.) I unpack the car and get the cat settled. She loves it here. Birds and squirrels and lots of windows. I get myself organized and make the beds for Scott and the kids. Oddly, Trinket  has made a beeline to the dark spot beneath the staircase behind the toilet in the powder room.  I have no idea why.

I pour myself a nice beer and post a check in to Facebook.  "Welcoming the long weekend with a nice IPA." I also send Kate a message telling her that I wish she were with me. I have beer and time alone and we'd have so much fun. She's never been to the cottage. I would love to show her around. Besides, she seriously lacks alone adult time these days.

Through a series of texts we talk about her joining me. She has other plans but she is not jazzed about them. Her husband is taking their boys somewhere and she wants to get out of the house, not sit quietly with some other neighbor having a civilized glass of wine.

And then she calls me. Her husband was cranky when he'd come home and she'd like to join me. Vanish for  a while. Maybe avoid a huge fight later. She asks if I am serious about her joining me. Of course I am.  Scott and the kids will be there mid morning. She can be on the road and back home before anyone knows she's gone (sadly). She says she's glad, because she's already stuffed the hummus and crackers and some nuts she was going to serve into a bag and has run out the door. She's on the road.  Can I tell her where she's going?

I tell her where to exit the Turnpike and tell her to call me when she does. I'll direct her in from their. She'll love it.

I am going to take a quick shower, pour us a pitcher and wait for her call. What a fun night we're going to have.