I've been on vacation for two weeks, and boy are my arms tired. Wait, that's now how that goes...
I went to Michigan to visit Jim's family and Ohio to visit mine. It was pretty much non-stop family time, which is wonderful in its own way, but also busy-making. I basically visited people and ate carbohydrates nonstop -- my grandma's chicken paprikash, red velvet cheesecake, sweet potato fries the size of my leg. I topped it all off with a peanut butter and banana cream cheese sandwich from Melt, a legendary grilled cheese place near Cleveland that once made me ill for four days in a row. I mean, SERIOUSLY. You try eating that much cheese and see what happens. This time I felt better, as evidenced below.
Anyway, great trip. Love my family. But unlike the two weeks I took off last year to work on my novel, this wasn't the kind of vacation full of leisurely laptop days and ruminating on literary shiz. Apart from answering a few e-mails, I got NONE work done on any projects. And when I got home, I slept. And then I watched Weeds. And, fine, MAYBE one episode of Kourtney and Khloe Take Miami. And then I... organized my shoes.
So, again... NONE work done.
Tomorrow I go back to work, back to long days of cramming projects into slivers of time, writing at lunch, writing FOR work, writing after work. And while my continued closet organization will have to wait, I think I'm looking forward to once again turning my brain on. Wait, that sounded wrong. Oh hell, I'm going to bed.