Stole this from Conan and present it here for no profound reason other than to maybe cause an involuntary laugh:
There’s an effort afoot to mitigate the feeling of self-pity for not traveling to the beach or down south for the long weekend. But rationalizations have been made of the following flavor:
1. – I’m exhausted. I just realized that I haven’t had a proper vacation since I moved here a little over two years ago. I’ve been working like a freak and it has finally (most noticeably yesterday) caught up with me. So, as traveling tends to be somewhat hurried and stressful rather than relaxing, and since Mom’s feeling some better and the panic button has been reset, I’m feeling okay about just making slow decisions about what I’ll be doing this weekend. And it may even involve just hanging out with myself. Although I have a few friends who have expressed some potential brunching or cook-out scenarios. And, as it turns out, another friend joins the Trotter in having a beach house (this one at Dewey) and the only stipulation is that I “bring girls.” I think I can survive that ghastly bridge for some beach time. There’s possibly a river floating trip in August and a possible jaunt to Florida – !!!!! — in September so, I’m feeling better about not having a plan and instead just tucking in for some much-needed rest.
2. – Quality of experience, not quantity, has become very important to me of late. I think it’s related to just getting older and less impressed by the flash. I don’t mind waiting for a helluva good time. If that means forgoing the surface good time, I’m good with that.
On that note, I’d like to own this print. It’s a good thing to have around.
The Coach turned me on to this guy (I don’t think he knows that but he did). I dig him.
This was really lovely. People that love each other are good, good things.
Enjoy the long weekend my people. We’ll talk and work things out later. And things will get better. Better and better. Always and forever, amen.