Had grand plans to be at one of the southernmost Hyatts or a DoubleTree at the end of America by now.
But Kadie thinks she’s her deceased big sister, as she took a shit in her food dish and wiped her ass on the baseboard. So, no clean hotels for you, cat.
So, I’m getting my drank on — just down the street from the office.
It appears someone stole a package I had delivered there. Reason No. 437,000 the place can burn down.
I thought I’d have a hard time separating myself from work. I do check emails and texts because I’m not an asshole.
But after 15 years without a vacation, and in roles where you must jump immediately when summoned, it was pretty easy to detach.
In fact, after my brunch tour of palm beach, I’m going to have a hard time re-assimilating.
Quick, someone marry me and knock me up so I can work from home like everyone else …