Pie Chart Friday: Spring Break Edition

This month, schools across the nation go into Spring Break and based on the number of prepubescent angst-ridden tweens awkwardly banging heaters on the street corner, Spring Break in my town has begun.  Of course, you all know what that means for the rest of us!

Spring Break

But I guess I can’t complain, eons ago I, too, used to celebrate Spring Break by [insert fun activity] with [insert imaginary friends] on the beach of [insert popular destination].  Sigh … those were the good old days.

These days the only way I get to spend Spring Break is by secretly wearing shorts to work and enjoying the Bud Light Lime-a-rita that I have hidden in the “World’s Best Dad” coffee mug that I stole downstairs from someone who is probably not the world’s best dad or even in the running for County’s Pretty Decent Dad.  Or, I could wait until Happy Hour like everyone else but I have never done things like everyone else, just ask all those Barbies without heads that my mom confiscated from me when I was 10.  I’m a creeper, what can I say.

Also, as I detected from Whole Food’s hot food bar and the all but one non-green item on it, St. Patrick’s Day is this weekend.  That’s always the best time that you can never remember, but this year I think it should be the best week you can never remember, almost like Spring Break but with green poop.  So, starting Sunday, I am hereby celebrating St. Patrick’s Break, during which I will capitalize on all the St. Patrick’s Day sale items at liquor and grocery stores across town.  I will also drink, in case that was not already abundantly clear.  Good, and green, times are ahead of us my friends.

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5 Comments

  1. MEOWhearthis

    I like this. Except I’m Polish, and our Dyngus Day is in July. So I shall celebrate my summer as Dyngus Break.

    The thing I really hate about spring break is not just the amateur drunk drivers and the overflowing of obnoxious children on my beaches that are just finally warm enough for me to enjoy with a book while getting quietly hammered on cans of Bud Light in order to deal with the fat that I’ve pretended I didn’t put on all winter as well as my blinding white, glowing skin, but that the Canadians are just finishing up snowbird season thereby getting the fuck off my roads and I don’t even have time to enjoy that fact before hoardes of brats invade my roads with their 10-to-a-car asses. Blah.

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