…he said, while all about him nodded their heads sagely and knowingly, soothing him with their friendly reassurances. Of course, everyone knew it was bullshit…
I’ve officially reached the point where I swear i’ll never go on vacation again as long as I live and for the life of me I can barely imagine why I ever thought it would be beneficial to go on vacation last week.
Okay, there was that eclipse thing. But other than that – big picture – it was a couple of weeks of busting my tail to get ready and leave as few loose ends as possible when I got on the big metal bird and flew east. Once “on vacation” it seemed like we were always moving and trying to cram three weeks worth of sightseeing into four days. Then, once I’m back, I get to work like a banshee for even more weeks as I try to get caught up not only at work but at the hangar.
I need a vacation to recover from my vacation!
Somewhere in the bottom of my brain there’s a little voice that says, “You’re doing it right, then! You don’t want to be boring! FOMO! YOLO! Plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead!”
I’m going to bed now, and in my dreams I’m going to hunt down that freakin’ little optimist in my subconscious and when I catch him I’m going to beat him to death with my bare hands. Or with a stick.