I used to think weekends could never be that bad. I mean, it is two days you don’t have to work. But this past weekend has proven otherwise. I mean, yeah, my weekend was full of #whitepeopleproblems and I did squeeze in a showing of the Dark Knight Rises, but it’s safe to say pulling two strangers down a river that is only ankle deep definitely has its downfalls.
After dropping two said strangers like a bad habit, leaving the river early (promises of “it’s the end just around the river bend” Pocahontas style only ended up broken and delapidated, just like me on the side of the river) came in the version of paying $5 to have our campsite come pick us up. I have never been more happy to pay $5 for something in my life.
A cold cement brick shower and a plate of bad Mexican food later, I was refueled and ready to go. That new energy lasted approximately 90 minutes, and then I was I was out like a light, earplugs in, commencing the expectant sweat that comes with camping in Missouri in July.
Can’t wait to never go again. Harry agreed. Sometimes the best part of marriage is being able to hate the same things together.