If only I could have planned the weather better. Then I'd be in great shape to leave after one more day. Somehow I didn't figure 100ºF heat into my procrastination. I didn't know I'd be stuck sitting in front of the fan all day instead of completing the rest of my to-do list.
The last-ditch trip to Target wasn't a raging success, either. I've come too late to the conclusion that if Medium is too small and Large is too big, I should probably try another brand or a different style. Now I'm stuck with several pairs of shorts that don't quite fit.
The big ones are okay for around the house. In fact, they're more than okay. They're outrageously comfortable. It's just that I can't leave home wearing them. As soon as I put keys and a wallet in the pockets, they're down around my knees. That look doesn't play, even in California. Even the younger, cooler guys only show a little bit of underwear above the waist of their cargo pants, not all of it.
The shirts are fine. Anything smaller than an extra-large pinches under my arms. Anything larger looks like a tent. It's kind of comforting to know there's one thing I can depend on. Wherever I go, I can pick up a T-shirt and know it'll fit, as long as it says XL somewhere on it. I hope this holds true when we go to Mexico in November. I'd hate to think that this One True Thing doesn't cross the border.
The best thing I got out of the trip to Target was lunch with Mom. We went to Chubby's there in the Market Place and ate so much that it'll be lunchtime tomorrow before I'm hungry again. (I wish.) She's going to be on her own all week, except for her friends and her clubs and her meetings and her groups. So she'll probably miss me while I'm gone.
But oh! When I got home all the plans went out the window (and promptly turned to ashes). There was no air in the house, so I had to create some, and then just sit and let it wash over me. TiVo had recorded NASCAR and baseball for me, so all I needed was a glass of cold water. (I definitely didn't need any food.)
It's not the worst way to spend a Sunday, except when there's so much to do and I'm trying to get out of the house by nine o'clock Tuesday morning. It's not as if I can count on Monday being free of obstacles. I can hope, but I can't count on it. At this point I'm really, truly hoping.