When I was still young, wide eyed and optomistic, my dad and I were out for a just-the-two-of-us drive to who knows where and he asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said “happy”. He told me that story over and over again just to make sure I wouldn’t loose sight of my goals.

Not feeling it today so visit the other site.

This is what it looks like when you don’t succeed in surprising the guest of honor at his surprise party and you force him to pose for the “surprise!” afterwards because some silly drunk whores walk through the doorway and tear down your glittery goodness and you’re in the middle of hanging it back up when said guest walks up behind you and says something along the lines of “way to go, fucktards”.

Yeah.

Happy birthday, Andy.

Plenty of golfers don’t like sand traps, they’re strategically placed around the course to thwart your attempts to reach your goal, giggling at you from down the fairway and seemingly jumping up to catch your ball in flight.

Me? I like ‘em. There’s sand, there’s sun and there’s a rake involved, which really just makes it feel like a wee zen garden in the middle of my game. I use the time in the bunker to center myself and my game, which is good considering how much time I spent in them (when not running away from alligators).

And in an uber rare appearance and bonus round: The Mc.

Countdown to sabbatical: 18 days

Yeah…it was.

Did: spot 3 alligators while golfing, eat/eat/eat, laugh at my brother so hard I hurt myself, cry during the pre-dinner toast, knit 3/4 of a scarf, finish Shadow Divers, revive my tan

Did not: look at BlackBerry, answer cell phone, blog, worry about/think about work

I’m already addicted.

My alarm goes off and I whack it. I realized in my half-awake state that I didn’t whack it right. I open an eye and attempt to reset it for a half an hour later.

An hour and a half later I open my eyes. I realize that isn’t Matt Lauer’s voice on my TV, which means it wasn’t on NBC when I fell asleep which means my back up alarm (the Today show music) has also failed. I grab the alarm. 8:00a.

CRAP.

I have a meeting with the boss at 8:30.

Shower, clothed, stopped for much needed caffeine and to the office at 8:32.

I don’t know how I do it, but I will tell you yesterday wasn’t pretty – figuratively or literally.

So the over sleeping is just another sign I’m fried and has me itching itching itching for my annual sabbatical, which is slated for December 14 – January 2.

During the downtime, electronics are turned off (craptops, BB, cell phones) and spirit is brought to the forefront for focus/attention/maintenance. I’ll sleep, celebrate the odometer turning again, run/walk, paint the condo, read a pile of books, catch up with a few friends, grab a hot yoga class or three, learn to knit (seriously), write and relax.

So. Effing. Tired.

Next week will be the teaser, heading to Florida to spend the holiday with the paternal side and the SO. There will be golf, tennis, walks, sun and laughter.

I hope you have something similar planned.

P.S. Feel free to send Home Depot gift certificates!