So, I didn’t want to say anything, because I am hard pressed to believe good fortune… but I have a week off. Really. A week. Off.
So, Friday I am driving down the mountain (down the mountain, people! It will be in my rear-fricking-view mirror). Saturday I am in Raleigh having questionable and potentially awkward coffee with my past.
And THE ENTIRETY OF NEXT WEEK?
See, in North Carolina, we don’t give specifics. We just say “the beach.” Because it’s there. With the ocean. And the sand. And the potential for tropical storms but whatever, I won’t be on a fricking mountain.
So, while I know you’re all oozing jealousy and support my way (for the only actual vacation I’ve taken in… oh… um… ten years of working… that doesn’t involve Oklahoma or a wedding) this does mean something terrible for you.
My blog-powers will be limited.
And, since they don’t play baseball games on projectors in the ocean (idea! idea!), I’ll only be watching when it rains. So… guest bloggers, anyone? Send pitches, essays, virtual postcards to firstname.lastname@example.org.
And let’s replay that Jacoby homer last night in our brains… right now… for Thursday morning smiles.
So, um. It will be a toosoxy next two days… but next week? Um. Yeah. Imaginary Youk and I are going to have some quiet time.
(Real Youk has promised to hold down the fort. I think he’s real. One doesn’t really know, what with the lack of home runs)