At Least They're Committed

My split lip started bleeding before I left work, which is ever so sexy (that’s sarcasm) and yet might make me look tough and I do so enjoy coming across as tough (that’s improbable). Regardless, I have six days to heal thyself and I’m not just talking about my lip. Vacation, baby! “I’m free! Iiiiii’m free! And freedom tastes of reality!” What do you suppose that means? Are those even the words? Who knows! (Cracking myself up here as usual.) Oh, maybe one of my friends will call me and ask me out for a drink! Wait, that’s right, my friends all live in other states now.

Besides, it won’t be all relaxation and fun and games. Got a ton of landscaping work done the past weekend, thanks a great deal to our high school helpers, but now there’s the house to clean before company comes, there’s the barbecue at my place tomorrow night, more socializing with my mom and the aunties the next morning and Uncle Albert will be getting out of prison on Wednesday; Thursday is D’s 50th birthday so that will be full and Friday . . . ah! Friday! D is heading to the ranch, the boys will be working and I will possibly have solitude at last. Friday through Sunday (other than your time on Saturday, Dez), yes, vacation meant to be spent alone.