Actually, I got myself in a bit of trouble this year by forgetting that it was a holiday at all. My surgery date was a pain to set up, they only had certain days open, and I needed a spot where I wouldn't have to go to a race the next weekend. So she showed me June 30, and I checked my calendar and said "Perfect! No races until the third week of July!" And I signed myself up.
I didn't even think about that being the beginning of a holiday weekend. I didn't realize it until a while later, when trying to get the shifts covered at my work.
Good luck getting graveyard supervisor shifts covered on a holiday weekend at my work, even with a month and a half notice.
So my manager is covering my shifts this week, and I've got the feeling that I owe her a shitload of favors for this.
Anyway, fourth of july ... it's not just my least favorite holiday because i'm an america-hating commie. It's also my least favorite holiday because I am just a teensy bit high-strung. Normally, I'm just twitchy, but with smoke and lights and explosions all over the place, I require sedation. Usually I'm at work, and safely indoors from all the awfulness. This year, however, I'm trapped by myself, at my house.
Thank goodness for painkillers and valium.
Silly me, I'm on vacation and I want to go back to work. I'm sure my feelings on this will change as soon as this dose of Vicodin wears off and I'm clutching my chest while crawling towards the prescription bottle. But i'm bored and stir-crazy.