Long weekends are never long enough, even if you don't waste your time sleeping

I've been away for a few days. I'm sorry. I've been busy not sleeping. I'm not kidding when I say that my entire long weekend in Massachusetts revolved around food, family, booze, and lack of sleep.

That last part is only ironic because when my mom and I set out on Thursday, the only thing I said I needed to do was have a well rested weekend so when I started my first Back On My Feet run at 5:30 a.m. on Monday morning, I'd be ready. Instead, our plane out of Philadelphia on Thursday night was five hours late. Naturally, there was nothing to do but sit in the airport bar for five hours, watch the bar tab rise, and count the hours of sleep I'd be losing that night. Which actually wasn't all that bad until we finally got to the part where the bar full of drunk Bostonians had to board the plane and have you ever seen a bar full of drunk Bostonians board a plane? Carrying your mother?

When I finally made it to bed some time around 3:30 a.m. I figured I had all weekend to catch up on my sleep. Until I didn't. Because you know that thing that happens on vacation, when your body doesn't want you to sleep because you want to be awake to savor every second of not being at work, kind of like when little kids are having so much fun playing that they don't even want to take a break to go to the bathroom so they usually end up peeing their pants?

Friday was filled with all sorts of great things like long jogs and house hunting and french onion soup and back decks and good lawd those Coronas and EEEEY BOROVICHKA!1. Then there was all those great things on Saturday like long swims and good books and beach naps and midnight drives and more Coronas and EEEEEY BOROVICHKA! And Sunday had all of those great things like morning tea and comfy couches and kisses on the head and another bridal shower and heartfelt welcomes and cards from future sisters that make you want to cry and gifts from your mom that you'll keep forever and don't forget all that wine but for the love of gah no more borovichka.

So that by the time Monday morning at 4:50 a.m. rolled around and that blaring alarm went off in the dark and I thought so this is what 4:50 a.m. looks like when you aren't drunk, I kind of felt like I was going to die. And for the rest of the day I struggled through what some people might call not fully functioning. And what others might call completely gorked. To which I might say, watch your back, mothaflippas 'cause I got my nine hours last night and now I'm ready to mentally destroy you. Or at least complete full sentences.

1. I should explain that one of the reasons we were in Massachusetts for the weekend (besides to go to the beautiful bridal shower that B's mom's friends put together), was to go to B's Slovakian brother's 2. engagement party. 3. His name is Matej. And this party also brought in a number of Matej's family members. And you know that stereotype of Eastern Europeans downing shot after shot after shot of some insane Eastern European liquor? It's totally true.

2. I should also explain that Billy's Slovakian brother is not a result of anything scandalous happening in Slovakia on a family vacation gone wrong. 4. About 15 years ago B's family was the host family for a Slovakian exchange student, and he never went home. And then so they turned into his real family.

3. Matej is getting married next June to a girl named Kelly. Yay, Matej! Yay, Kelly!

4. I totally knew what you were thinking, sickos. And who goes to Slovakia on family vacation, anyway? 5.

5. You don't count, B's family. So sit down. Tweet