In theory, I am organized.
On paper, I am responsible.
In my head, I am efficient.
In my dreams, I am a rock star in sequin leggings.
But here i am, so discombobulated it's ridiculous.
In Mexico...we ate nachos until we started to sweat liquid cheese. We bronzed our bodies (only I freckled mine even despite my OCD like sunscreen reapplication) i watched a pack of dogs invade the beach mere minutes after i left it = severe panic attack avoided (friggin' mexico) We floated down lazy rivers and slid down water slides, and only once did a kid tell me (as my inner tube began to capsize under my nacho engorged body) "lady, you're so big for this." We had fun making family MEMORIES for heavens sakes!!
And now i am in my usual home-from-vacation coma. Is vacation worth the inevitable tilting off my axis? (...that's what she said?) My baby can't poop and woke me up at 4 this morning to scream in my face about it (vacation poo syndrome knows no boundaries), my fridge is empty, my house is crazy, i have a halloween party and baby shower to plan in like five seconds and i am desperately craving a run. Heeeeelppppmeeeeee.
(woe is the poor housewife back from her week long trip...Yes, you can punch me in the face now) So, are vacations refreshing, or just a new layer to my crazy? I can't decide.
I think I'll play hookie today.
team Boo ♥'s you