Zona

Saturday afternoon and I sit here on the sofa

knowing I go back to work tomorrow
remembering submarine sandwiches at kresgie's in El Con mall
remembering eating hotdogs in a booth while my dad sat at the bar and gave bets on dog races to the bookie
remembering the quiet before the evening going out storm
remembering walking into a closed restaurant to set up the bar upstairs
remembering everything being closed in Oruro, Bolivia
listening to my grandkids scream at each other over a helium filled balloon
remembering cruising the mall as a teen with friends
remembering sitting on the sofa at home being just as bored as I am now
clicking back and forth on this computer but knowing all my blog and face book friends have better things to do on a Saturday
feeling that feeling that Saturday is a different feel from Sunday

This job I have took away my weekends 20 years ago. They wonder why we're not normal sometimes. It's because we grew up having Saturday cartoons and dates and Sunday morning breakfast and maybe church and a football game. Now we have work and people telling us what to do. People telling us to act professional yet excluding themselves from the requirement.

Saturday afternoon and I sit here on the sofa

blaming them.