"Creative activity could be described as a type of learning process where teacher and pupil are located in the same individual." -- Arthur Koestler
Well, it's about fucking time I got home and updated this. We JUST got in about an hour or so ago. I'm tired, both from the day of traveling and because I have so much to get done that I find the idea of doing it, well, tiring.
I did have a wonderful time, a lovely time, a relaxing and enjoyable time. It's funny, how you can be both relieved and depressed to arrive home after some fun time away. Most of all, I'm trying not to get sick. M.s. got sick while we were away, and it was horrible to watch him suffer through it. I'm doing everything I can to stave off the germy germs that permeated the buses, planes, ferries, etc.
And oh joy, I'm PMS-ing, hence my perma-frown and pissy mood, which could also be exacerbated by STRESS. We have to leave again next week, stay somewhere else while our floor is being repaired. A glance at my Treo and see dozens of little dots -- those are appointments, obligations, things to do, places to be.
So there is no time to be sick. I haven't been sick in over a year, and I'm not going to start now. These are allergies, dammit. And cramps. The headache, well, I know for a fact I'm dehydrated. Wine, diet cola, and Bailey's Irish Cream were really all I had to drink today (shhh, don't tell my personal trainer, I'll be seeing him tomorrow morning). Speaking of which, I'm damn proud of myself for going to the gym while staying on the island. Damn proud. Nothing like sweating all over the same equipment used by the Forbes and the Kennedys. But more than that, I'm just happy I had the chance to grunt and show off my strength and endurance in front of all those skinny people. Some day not too far away, I'll be one of them, only I'll be in better shape.
Okay, almost 8 p.m. and I've got work to do before I get ready for bed. Calgon? Where the fuck are you when I need you?