Yes, I love my job. Truly, I do. It's fun (sometimes) & exciting (sometimes) and fulfilling (most times)...but good golly could today go any slower? Anyone?! I think this is what they call Post-Mission Distress Disorder. Coming Down From the High. Crashing after working for 14 days straight with minimal sleep and overly salty, sugary, fattening "potluck day" goodness. It's a beautiful thing, coming down from mission stressors - except one thing: I don't want to do any work at all. Ever. Not even a little...weeeeellllll...nope, not even a little. So I escape to blog, if only briefly. Something that I fear I will become addicted to. Gross. I can't quite stomach it yet, but it's coming. Soon I'll be hooked.
Tonight will be spent trying to figure out what the heck Charlie and I are going to do about Hawaii - where we'll stay and what we'll do. We have 2 weeks to decide.
For those of you that may not be aware, Charlie is going to be stationed at Pearl Harbor tinkering on Navy ships for 2 weeks and as luck (and frequent flyer miles) would have it, I am going to visit him for a week. Yesssssssssssssss! When we get back, I have a week or two until I go to MN for Faith's baby shower and then the following week Mar and I will be headed to Switzerland for our 2-year anniversary (which just so happens to be this coming Monday).
"Oh those poor jet-setters!" you say? Well yes, we are now officially poor and 2 trips hardly classify us as jet-setting, but dag-nabbit we're outta this piece!
That is all. Seacrest out.
-Jaime
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