I thought it was Sunday, but there isn’t even a hint of sunshine. It’s just like any other gray day to a retiree like me. I did my three mile run this morning on the treadmill while I finished up Red Alert by James Patterson and Marshall Karp. The dogs were reluctant to go outside in the rain, but their bladders prevailed. Tally ran directly across the street dodging raindrops to do her business. Tinker, on the other hand, could not find a proper place to pee, and wandered aimlessly through the wet grass for what seemed like an hour. As I sit here drinking a Diet Coke and talking to my wife, we’re thinking about another visit to Cracker Barrel for what would be my third time this week. These are the things that make me a certified “creature of habit.”

There is a certain sense of peace in being a home body, while only venturing out to familiar sites. Buffalo Wild Wings to end each week is a good example. Movie night, cooking night, and date night help distinguish the days of the week. A different movie, recipe, and restaurant are the only decisions that need to be made when you’re in the routine of being home. It’s not boring at all considering the amount of traveling that we do. Nearly one week of every month is spent away from home, a percentage that’s been even higher so far this year. Marriott Hotels are our home away from home, utilizing everything from the lower end Fairfield Inn properties to the high-end JW Marriott and their world class resort hotels. However, there’s no place like home.

Tomorrow starts my wife’s work week – another Monday. Sunday, for me, was always the transition day, preparing for the job while struggling to preserve the weekend. I was never able to look at Sunday as “Funday” because of what always loomed ahead. As a result, the weekend hours began to shrink and pass by too quickly. The week seemed to skip from Friday to Monday to the point where I felt that I was always working, Also, back in the days of mowing, trimming, edging, and raking, weekends were nothing but a labor extension of the work week. Condo life eventually put an end to those responsibilities. My wife misses her garden, while I certainly don’t miss those yard work and home maintenance days. 

We ended up going to Biscuits for breakfast, our favorite haunt prior to the recent two Cracker Barrel location openings. Regardless, a hearty breakfast at either location usually leads to a nap. The Cubs, The Masters, and I.U. baseball might allow me to plow through the afternoon. In addition, my wife wants us to watch Pitch Perfect 3. By the way, Game Night was a very entertaining movie last night. It was a Friday Night Lights reunion of coach Kyle Chandler and back-up quarterback, Jesse Plemons, one of my favorite TV series. I often had dinner with the two of them during the filming of the show while we lived in Austin. They were both very good about mixing with the crew and lowly show extras like myself.

It should be a relatively quiet week. There will be no skiing, Broadway musicals, or Leadership breakfasts. The dogs get to go to the spa and we might go to the Nike Hoop Summit on Friday night.  It’s supposed to be spring-like weather tomorrow and then return to cool temperatures. The dogs were shorted their walk/run today, and Tinker responded with a fowl case of Tinkerrhea on the kitchen floor. She is the “Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” and after last night’s storms and the need for her Thunder Shirt was unable to control her output. (See Posts #370 and #371). I somehow managed to sleep through the high winds and heavy rain, exhausted after another tough day of retirement. What day is it again?