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Broke Wife, Big City
August? What do
you mean it’s almost August?
By Aprill Brandon
Things I planned to do this summer:
Go to the beach as much as possible.
Take my toddler to the Tiny Tot summer reading program at the library
every Monday.
Take a weekend trip to Maine.
Sign my kid up for swimming lessons.
Go camping.
Go to the free sunrise yoga in the park.
Wear sundresses and flowers in my hair.
Drink a glass of wine on the back porch with my husband as the sun sets.
Take the family to Movie Night in the Park and have a picnic while
watching a family-friendly film.
Get the air conditioner fixed.
Go to the weekly farmer’s market for fresh fruits and vegetables.
Make s’mores.
Go to a Red Sox game.
Attend at least one music festival.
What I’ve actually done this summer:
Found my swimsuit bottoms from 1998 but no luck yet on finding the
matching top.
Went to the library exactly once only to realize it was Tuesday and
Tuesday is the “Wild About Reading!” tweens reading program.
Googled “weekend trips to Maine.”
Googled “swimming lessons for toddlers.”
Googled “camping sites that don’t have bugs or humidity” and survived
five hours in my house with no power because of a blackout.
Wore my yoga pants all day like I actually dragged my ass out of bed
and went to sunrise yoga instead of watching “Sesame Street” in a
comatose state while drinking a gallon of black coffee.
Ponytail. Tank top. Flip flops. Every. Single. Day.
Drank an entire bottle of wine on the back porch with my husband. Woke
up hungover. Missed sunrise yoga yet again.
Waited until toddler went to bed and then ate KFC on the living room
floor while binge watching “Vikings.”
Got air conditioner fixed (I’m lazy, not suicidal).
Actually did make it to the farmer’s market a couple of times but left
sporting not insignificant bruises from little old ladies who feel
elbowing you out of the way of the asparagus is acceptable societal
behavior. And it is acceptable societal behavior for them because who’s
going to stop them? They’re ancient and slightly scary.
Searched for bag of missing marshmallows for three days. Found
approximately 43 half-eaten marshmallows under crib.
Googled “Red Sox tickets.” Had heart attack.
Listened to Wilco on vinyl while drinking overpriced coconut water
mixed with vodka and snapping selfies (which is basically the same
thing as actually going to a music festival).
Well, I guess there’s always next year.
Sigh…
On the bright side, pumpkin spice lattes will be available soon. Oh!
And I have so many plans for this fall! I want to go hiking and drink
in a beer garden while wearing a cozy sweater featuring an ironic bunny
and make homemade apple cider and sew my own Halloween costume (a.k.a.
tell my mom what I want and make her sew it) and bring the baby to a
pumpkin patch and…
Can’t get enough of Aprill? Can’t wait until next week?
Check out her website at http://aprillbrandon.com/
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