Un-Labor-Like Day

Labor Day. How I love thee. How I love the excuse to do absolutely NOTHING all day long.

To me, Labor Day means-

1. Sleep in. Make it worth my while. Refuse to get out of bed before 9. 10:00 would be even better.

2. Stay in pajamas until mid-afternoon.

3. Lay on the couch and watch reruns of Top Chef Season 6 until I feel the need to get off the couch and get something to eat. Or go to the bathroom.

4. Organize closets and/or scrapbooking gadgets and gizmos while listening to tunes on my iPod. Let me take this moment to say how much I love the shuffle setting on my iPod. It makes me so warm inside to be listening to Lady Gaga's Bad Romance one minute followed by Point of Grace's O Holy Night the next. It keep me on my toes.

5. Decide to take a shower at ANY TIME OF THE DAY because I can.

6. Naked face. Make-up free all day. I love it.

7. Watch The Office marathon on TBS for an hour or so. Come to the realization that I am obsessed with fictional characters and their propensity to stupidity.

8. Secretly wish that I worked in an office and was seated opposite the likes of Jim Halpert. I. Love. Him.

9. Realize that I don't work at an office but rather a classroom.

10. Drag my sorry butt off the couch and head to school to participate in un-Labor-like Day activities. ie: plan, copy, plan some more, copy some more, etc. Hey, if I don't do it, nobody will. I don't have little elves to do my bidding. Or my copying.

11. Mentally prepare for a quiet night in. Movie? Finish that blasted book that I'm reading? The options are limitless, really.

12. Look forward to my next "do nothing all day" holiday. Memorial Day. Oh wait, I forgot about President's Day, though, according to the Farmer's Almanac, we're supposed to have a rough and tough white winter, so chances are I'll be in school on President's Day. Fine by me. I welcome any and all snow days. When else am I supposed to enjoy an all-day Harry Potter marathon with my girls?! Guilt free, mind you. Plus, this Iowa girl loves her snow. I bought a shovel last year so I'm prepared. Did you hear that Dad? I, your beloved Emily, bought a shovel. Not sure how to use it, but it's all mine.

Back to doing nothing...