One. More. Week.

The week before vacation is the cruelest of all weeks. Crueler than the week before Christmas. Crueler than the week before my birthday. Crueler than the week before being executed for a crime you did not commit (I assume). My brain has officially shut down and all it can think is, "Mojito mojito mojito mojito beach mojito beach beach mojito." My brain can't be assed to care about records management right now. It doesn't care about scanning procedures or file retention. My brain couldn't give whether or not I ever write that stupid novel. My brain wants to sit on the beach reading pulpy murder mysteries and sipping a drink whilst wearing a floppy straw hat, new bathing suit and some SPF 50.

The week before vacation is not okay. I have decided which dress I will wear at the wedding. I have a new denim skirt and plenty of sundresses. I am ready! Why do I have to keep waiting? Why is my life so unfair??

I don't even know how I'm going to make it through one more hour of work today, much less the remaining 4 days of my work week. Obviously God hates me for some unspecified reason. Probably for marrying Jeremy. Clearly the consequences of my interfaith marraige are making themselves known now in this, the final tedious week before my vacation.

It's hard to be me. Really, it is, I don't recommend it. At least not until next week.