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Saturday, October 5, 2013

Sequescation: Day 4

Sequescation- An unplanned vacation courteous of government stupidity; similar to staycation, but substitute Pina Coladas on the deck with Ramen noodles in the dark. 

Oh, it's gotten bad. Yell at the geriatric volunteers manning the GOP booth at the local village fair bad. Which I totally did today and don't feel bad at all about. Even when the woman told me she was just here so she could get out of the house more.

The furlough has gotten 'intrude on my weekend bad'. Which I really take offense to. I used to long for Friday night the way a Tijuana prostitute longs for a dose of relief-giving penicillin. And it's totally not a selfish longing. It's not about sleeping in late which is physically impossible to do in my house unless you're the sort of person who could curl up inside the running engine of a 747 for a short kip. And it's not about going drinking with friends--all my old buddies have been reduced to names on the chat screen of my iPhone and exchanges that read like the deranged close captioned typing of a Married With Children episode as captured by a drunken hobo.


No, the weekends are all about my kids. We go on real life adventures. Go-Karting, paintballing, I know you did not bring my kids to a monster truck show type adventures. Glow sticks often figure prominently. It's awesome. It's also my reward for a miserable week and seeing the look on my kids faces while they're doing fucking flips on a trampoline the size of an Olympic swimming pool reminds me why I work in the first place. 

I'm Julie and I'll be your cruise director. Have you guys ever participated in a crash derby? Well, get your fucking helmets on and buckle up. And remember...don't tell your mother.

But after nearly a week of not working, the weekend is just another damned day, no different than the last four days I spent at home working on my manifesto and sending packets of flour to my congressman. And summoning the energy for my kids who are raring to go after a long week at school is, well, difficult. 

As a father, that's the last thing I thought I'd ever say. I never wanted to be a dad who treats their children as a chore. I want to be a fun dad, who enjoys his kids as people. Who'd go out and have a beer with all of them if such things were legal in this small-minded country of ours. Like my dad did for me (the fun outings, not the beer drinking). 

I see on the news that congress has actually found something to agree on. They voted unanimously to give federal workers backpay. I'm as excited to learn that I'm going to have a paycheck for this lost time as I am that the dems and ball-sucking republicans are finally seeing eye to eye on something.  Wonderful, just make it fast boys until something much more precious than money is lost. 


I'm speaking, of course, of the kill your own turkey weekend I have planned with the kids in November. Don't worry, I'm not crazy enough to give my kids a gun. They have to strangle the turkey with their bare hands, otherwise Thanksgiving is cancelled.