Just so we're clear: When you are discharged from the hospital for "near-syncope", "falls", and "disorientation", please don't leave your empty wine bottle under the bed. Even if it is just one out of those little 4-bottle packs. Trust me, the housekeepers will find it, and they will bring it to me. And then I will be royally ticked off that I gave you as much xanax as I did because I was unaware that you were already self-medicating. (Although, finding that little treasure brought much hilarity to the unit, so I guess it was worth something) And know this: next time you are admitted -- and there will be a next time -- know that I will turn your belongings inside out and I will make doubly sure to do so after your "boyfriend" visits.
Please don't notice that I am not blogging about running. Yes, I have a relay to run in a month. Don't remind me. I plan on running A WHOLE LOT in the next 2 weeks or so...and I can say mostly with confidence that I will do just that because I will be (drum roll, please) on vacation at the beach for 2 weeks! I have 4 novels, enough for a week, I hope. I have happy small and not so small people, and I have sunscreen. And a lot of groceries that have to fit into my Honda. Bikes? Check. Bathing suits? Check. Beach chair? Check. Margarita mixer and some wine? Check and check.
I had two big milestones for this year, a goal and a treat. The goal was to train for and run a marathon. I have Bayshore in my pocket. The treat was 2 weeks on Sanibel Island. Oh man....I can almost smell the salt water now. 14 days of sun and surf and sand. 14 days of no clocks, of getting up when we are ready, eating when we are hungry and sleeping when we are tired. 14 days of no schedules. 14 days of "AHHHH".
A goal and a treat. It is going to be juicy. I can tell.
Jealous. Seriously jealous.
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