Memorial Day Weekend is upon us, a big weekend in the lives of NIT fans everywhere.
Here’s how we intend to spend it:
Friday Night
Got some pizza, watched the Mavericks and Rangers, watched an episode of Parks & Rec, went to bed. Couldn’t fall asleep. Got up. Ate a snack. Came back to bed. Played some online chess. Lost. Went to sleep.
Saturday
Woke up. Ate some pancakes. Blogging about Memorial Day Weekend as an NIT fan. When I’m done with that, might go for a run in the heat. Trying to become one with the sun the summer. It’s the summer of becoming one with the sun. It’s the summer of saying to the sun, Hey. The moon’s not crowding you out again this year. Not on my watch. It’s the summer of sunshine. (Might do a few pushups before I step out. Top Gun 2 stuck with me.)
When the run is complete, I will most likely sit on my bathroom floor for twenty minutes, cooling down and pondering whether running was a good idea. At this point I’ll probably remember that I was going to make a TikTok/Reel out of that roofer post from Thursday. I’ll tell myself I’ll do it later. I’ll play a game of online chess. Because of the way chess.com structures competition, there’s approximately a 50% chance I will lose.
Having showered and deodorized and potentially even shaved, I might bring myself to make that TikTok. I might bring myself to look at flights for my family reunion next month. I will probably play another game of online chess. If I lose quickly and feel frustrated or win quickly and feel excited but not satiated, I will probably play yet another.
My friends are having people over on their building’s pool deck this afternoon. I’m going to drink so many seltzers. Non-alcoholic ones. Just the normal stuff. Something about getting really hydrated and doing cannonballs in the late afternoon while the haze from Mexican wildfires wafts around downtown Austin sounds pretty fun today. I asked if I could do cannonballs, and my friend said the pool is only three feet deep. I think I could do cannonballs into three feet of water. No problem. Especially if I try to land on my butt. What if I did back flops? Like belly flops, but landing on my back?
My friends said they’re ordering Domino’s for dinner. This is part of why I want to drink so many seltzers. I think if I take two huge pees right before the Domino’s gets there I will be able to consume an impressive amount of Domino’s. Impressive most of all to my belly, which will then be content and happy and won’t keep me up tonight. I’m guessing the Pacers game will be on. I think a guy from Indiana’s gonna be there.
Once home, I will reflect briefly upon the majesty of the NIT, confirm that Joe Kelly still isn’t off the injured list, and start moving towards bed. Big day tomorrow. 1,100 miles of racing to watch.
Sunday
Wake up, toss some blog posts on the blog, go to church, thank God for the NIT. Come home, walk the dog, make that TikTok/Reel if I haven’t already (or make another—I think the buttermilk thing would probably play if I did the greenscreen pictures right), thank the dog for the NIT. Watch the Indy 500, hoot and holler, get anxious about the rain. React with jubilee if they can finish the race without a rain caution. Eat a brownie—with ice cream, of course. Take the dog over to the old neighborhood for her second walk. Remember to bring water because the last time I took her out in the heat of the day she really wanted water and I didn’t have any and that felt mean. Bring her home. Let her pass out. Settle in for the Coke 600. Order a pizza? Do I make it 3-for-3 on pizzas? I could order one of those personal ones from Mod. Should I work out tomorrow? It’s the summer of sun, after all. Hmm. I should probably break out the second TV tomorrow for the basketball and hockey. That seems like an important thing to—WHOA the hockey is in the afternoon. Hmm. Might try to time the second walk between the hockey and the Coke 600. Not sure how that’s gonna go. Think the green flag’s at 5:22 Central.
Monday
Wake up, blog, walk the dog, acquire snacks. Bring the snacks to the other friends’ pool. Consume a prodigious amount of hot dogs. Confirm before eating the fourth hot dog that the salad place down the street is open, so I can reset my body at supper and establish health within it once again heading back into the week. Say, “It’s the summer of sunshine!” Cannonball. Cannonball again. Continue cannonballing until rival pool guests ask me to stop. Call them Confederates, cannonball one more time, then leave without toweling off. Bake dry in the sun before getting into my car. Open my trunk to reveal a lunch box packed with ice and seltzers (still non-alcoholic, I’m gonna be so fucking hydrated). Drive home listening to the Battle Hymn of the Republic. Get choked up at the line about those Union guys being ready to die to free the slaves. Feel corny. Put on Shoelaces by the Submarines. Drive through Downtown and West Campus even though it’d be faster to hop on the interstate. Walk the dog again, back in the old neighborhood. Bring water. She’s gonna be so hydrated. Thank God for the NIT and water. Make sure Joe Kelly’s finally off the IL and hasn’t gotten in the Dodgers game yet. Meal prep (just kidding, but also I promise not to order a fourth pizza).
