thoughts on a may long

Confession time. I am not a lover of the May long weekend and I haven't been for many many a year. Maybe even a decade. Or more. Yes, definitely more than a decade. I go to bed every Victoria day evening feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt that I haven't worked hard enough to provide for my children a fancy trailer that I can spend a day getting ready, so we can pull it to some campground and freeze our butts off for three nights just to come home and get the trailer unready.

Don't get me wrong, I love camping. But warm camping. You know, the fun kind of camping.

If I could actually afford a trailer I'm not entirely sure I would have one. They seem great, I won't lie, but the upkeep? And the storing? And the setting up? I am way too lazy for that.

It has been determined, by me, after some serious observation over the last three weeks, that I am most certainly the laziest person I know. On the planet.

The laziest person on the planet. That title belongs to me and I am not so proud.

It's time for some changes in that department before I stop fitting places. Because I am noticing that I don't fit everywhere so well anymore.

I digress.

May long. The man works every May long. In 19 years I do believe he has worked every single one of them. What if he didn't work? What would change?

BBQ's would be had. An outing of some sort? Perhaps. But maybe an inside outing because, like I said, it's cold out.

Okay, it was actually nice out this weekend. Not camping nice but walkabout nice. And because it was nice out my guilt at writing a paper and allowing iPads and video games indefinitely went from a 6 to an 8.4. Yesterday, to stave the guilt, I took the two littles for lunch and to see Godzilla. Not an outside activity but an activity nonetheless. It knocked my guilt down to a 7.8.

I hate guilt. But it is something I am very good at. An accomplishment, of sorts.

Here's to hoping next May long has bad weather to justify all the in-sided-ness or no homework and a husband who isn't working.

A girl can dream.