It’s nearly May 1^st. In my part of the world that means it is International Labor Day. I wrote a post about this holiday a year ago. Take a look if you dare.

Labor Day used to constitute a 5-day holiday in China, three days being official and two optional to encourage tourism. It was a dandy break, half way through the school term. The government revised the holiday schedule, moving to a more Canadian system of long weekends, much to my chagrin. We now have three long weekends, one in April, May and possibly June (or September, no one seems to know). Folk festivals that were never official now enjoy mythical Day Off status.

I have been trying to take day off for two weeks. My three requests for leave were all approved, and yet I have found myself in the office each day I am suppose to be absent. Why? Loyalty, I guess. Fear, perhaps. I could leave but I worry about the store being properly minded in my absence. And, a series of misfortunes required me to stay each of the days I had booked off.

The Stevo has a little problem that requires a medical consultation in Hong Kong. Doctors in China are educated and efficient, but hearing that my problem stems for hou chi, or having too much fire within my body, is not a diagnosis I can readily accept (could you?). It’s a male-only problem, and not a serious one. No, it can’t be solved by taking a blue pill. Don’t think that way about The Stevo. His hormones are that of a young and randy buck.

Again, I digress.

One of my holiday days will be spent in a doctor’s office in Hong Kong. How much does that suck? I could be seeing China’s glorious landmarks, or chasing Mrs. Stevo around our small apartment with a potato-masher, playing randy chef and reluctant waitress, or, drinking beer, watching DVDs and sleeping. But nay, I will be poked and prodded in a city I despise nearly as much as Winnipeg.

Is it fitting that I am seeing a doctor during the Labor Day holiday, given that I had booked off work earlier to do so? Ironic? Loyal? Stupid? Both? Neither?

Meh.

My other May Day project is this:

The Stevo bought a massive desk, so large that it is nearly the width of the apartment’s main room. Why, you ask? Is The Stevo an impulsive buyer? Does he like big things? Does he have a brain in his head?

Sometimes. Yes. Opinions vary.

I measured the apartment and designed a floorplan. Said ginormous desk should fit. Yeah, should. I should never use the word should: Things don’t go well when I do.

Oh, yes: Why I bought the desk. The Stevo’s male problem is exacerbated by his current desk and the contorted posture he must assume to use it. He hoped with a new, larger desk, said problem, and his demeanor, might improve.

Only time will tell. Or I will tell time. Yeah, I’m rambling. I’m out of blogging practice, and it shows.

Happy Labor Day. That cursing you think you hear is me trying to fit the desk into the spot I thought it would fit into.

Long live the revolution.