Phoning It In

In the midst of the chaos and general nuttiness that has been the last week or so, I finally realized that I did not finish writing about my last day or so of vacation. So in the interest of finishing ONE DAMNED THING in my life, here it is.

We drove through Kentucky.
Dave had the oil changed at the Harley shop.
We went home.

Suck. AmIright? Yeah.

It appears that once you get to a state that actually touches the state you live in, things go downhill.

I have several things to blame. Laundry is at the top of the list. I was getting dangerously close to needing to do laundry while on vacation. This, my dear friends, is a cardinal sin (I'm pretty sure). Next, would be the calendar which taunted me it's "You have to go back to the real world soon. And no one will make your bed or bring you food." And finally there was the odometer, which politely told me that my ass had been sitting on this seat for almost two thousand miles.

See? It was like I had been on a week-long one night stand and it was now almost time for the walk of shame. Vacation had totally sexed me up and now was kicking me out of bed without giving me it's phone number. So really, vacation is a bastard.

I don't have any really good pictures of the last days of vacation, so instead I'll just show you what The Man refused to buy me at the Harley Shop (I don't care if we are almost home, Mr. Man!)because he obviously doesn't love me care about the condition of my ass.



So, I'm back at work now. With Monkey Butt.