Monday, August 03, 2009


Well. We are back!

We are back and trying to stay very "dude" about having to return to our jobs. Very go with the flow. Very I'll-be-putting-in-my-8-hours-and-then-you-can-watch-me-walk-out-the-door.

Instead of all of that shoulder hunching and groaning and stomach turning and complaining that we normally do. And so far it's a little easier said than done.

Vacation was bliss. Vacation was long but short. Long in the beginning and short in the end.

Vacation let me breathe and think and talk with my husband and eat meals at tables and throw towels on floors and take notes in my black book and drink glasses of wine and shoot oodles of photos and smell fresh air and meet precious children and get too much sun and adopt two kitties and watch too much "Lost" and go to bed too late and get up late too and ignore all responsibilities for two entire weeks.

Vacation is funny because you end up thinking of things you don't normally have time to think of because you are very busy with real life. You think of goals and hopes and things that have happened in your life and how you feel about those things. You start thinking that it couldn't be so difficult to make your life so that you would really enjoy it -- really get something out of each day instead of forcing your feet to walk forward in order to complete a series of tasks that will bring you to the inevitable end of each day thinking, "This day was not for me."

It's true that life could be reworked to be enjoyable, but it's not true that getting there is not difficult. It would take a lot of commitment and work and you'd have to stick to it and not get tired and frustrated, and something like that takes a sack-load of gumption, and I just checked my sack and I'm not sure it's in there. Did that sound dirty? It wasn't supposed to.

Someone like me needs to take baby steps. One item on a list. Which is not a list. It's a piece of paper with one thing written on it. A whole list with things I need to do makes me want to lie on the couch and cover my face with a pillow and moan and possibly drink a martini and fall asleep. So I will write one thing on a piece of paper and work toward that thing. That is hardly prone-coma-couch territory.

So I'll be blogging more about that and more about the vacay a bit later. Expect photos, and extremely annoying descriptions of how my genius kitten, Murray, knows how to play fetch, yada yada.

Ta for now.

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