So, I took a week off, starting the day I got divorced. It was a crazy week, but I needed the vacation. I’m not sure I really had enough sanity left to function in my “normal life” by that point. There was a lot of good stuff, some bad stuff, and some things that didn’t work out how I would have preferred. Saw some movies, most of them sucked. Pasta Nostra is still good. Didn’t get any reading done. Cambridge was less impressive than I imagined, and the Sheraton Commander has some of the worst bed linens, ever. Philadelphia continues to be more impressive than I expect. Was good to see Bill and Krista again.
My neighbor downstairs has created in me such a hatred and frustration that I don’t know where to start. Maybe I’ll write about that sometime, but I now find myself running from my car to the front door to ensure I don’t have to talk to her. She’s called me every morning for the last week and written me four letters. Four letters. I wrote her one back and have blocked her number, but … well, that’s all a story for another day.
Probably a lot more to cover, but I’m too deep into a bottle of wine, chores, and catching up on work to remember or care at the moment.