it's amazing what we can accomplish when we're motivated.
It's amazing how motivating the prospect of four days trapped in your apartment can be.
Unlike every living biped on the planet, we didn't make plans to get away this weekend. While New York City emptied out like water through a strainer, we stuck around, trading in a leisurely drive to an exotic destination for rare, unfettered access to restaurants and parking in our own city.
I love zoos. Not the cramped, cagey zoos where the polar bears swim laps for hours because suicide isn't an alternative. I'm talking the big, sprawling, leafy zoos that feel like jungles and have enough space to move so you don't want to punch the fat, ignorant people zig-zagging slowly in front of you in the back of the head.
So we packed up snacks, said goodbye to our kick-ass parking space, and headed to the Bronx so Cheeky could see wildlife that for once wasn't collecting cans or swearing in Russian.
There was much to recommend about the excursion, from the great weather to the otters having sex, but by far the best part was that we killed five hours on a Saturday. We usually define a successful weekend by the amount of Lexapro and Wellbrutin left in the bottles Monday morning, so any opportunity to distract ourselves from the endless drudgery of our meager existence I embrace with the enthusiasm of Cookie Monster at an Oreo factory.
And our weekend motivation didn't stop there! I distracted Cheeky for a few hours on Sunday while Oodgie rifled through her toys, seeking contributions to the local
landfill charity. Afterwards it was like our scruffy, overweight apartment had gone on an intense diet and exercise regimen and emerged as a trim, dashing stallion, complete with obligatory montage.
We even retired Cheeky's crib and assembled her $79 "big girl bed." (That's right, $79! Toys R Us, baby!) We thought it would be some monumental occasion, but it turned out to be just another day in the life for the Cheekster. Who knows how long it will take her to figure out the ground is just a couple inches beneath, but for now she's staying put, as if the edge of the bed is a sonic barrier...
Finally, to top the whole adventure off, we went to the amusement park on Memorial Day. Because Oodgie and I are both really into nausea, compressed vertebrae, and heatstroke. Not that any of that mattered to Cheeky, who gamely waited in line for 20 minutes to ride on a faux plane no bigger than a St. Bernard for 120 seconds.
Looking back, I still can't believe we did all that. It's almost like we have "energy" and "inspiration." I don't want you to get the wrong impression; I'm sure we'll be back to lying exhausted on the living room floor while Cheeky riverdances on our heads again within a couple days.