you are here

Or at least I am here. Right now. This very minute. Seriously. I can hear the waves crashing as I type.

No, we didn't decide we just couldn't take it anymore and that it was time to just up and leave before anybody knew to stop us. Mr. Lemony needed to be here for his job, so I said, "Uh, excuse me, but if you're going to the Caribbean in February, I am going to the Caribbean in February, thankyouverymuch."

And so here I am. It is 80 degrees at midnight in February and last night I ate dinner on a beach without my shoes. Frankly, I'm kind of freaked out, because HELLO it's February, but I'm not complaining.

Regularly scheduled blogging shall resume after our five days on the beach and I'm back in Quiet Village where it is most definitely not 80 degrees at midnight in February.

slacker blogger

Yep, that's me. Well, okay, it's not really, since my hair is much longer and I don't have a penis, but the slacker part is totally me these days. At least where this blog is concerned, anyway.

I have good intentions, I really do, but somewhere between my morning coffee and my nightly sprawl on the couch I get busy. Even on the days I don't get all that busy, I can always think of something else I can do instead. Like walk the dog. Or read the last twenty pages of that overdue library book. And, on my really slacker-ish days, watch a bunch of Without A Trace reruns on TNT.

Yeah. I know. Lame.

I need a kick in the butt.