Here's the thing: Why do I always want to start every blog post with the phrase "Here's the thing"? Things? They get to me. And, life? Chock full of things. More things than should be allowed under the legal limit. I'm just saying, please eliminate three.
Maybe I should just re-title my blog: "Here's the thing."
So, anyway, none of that was actually the thing. Here's the thing: I'm going on vacation. Off to the beach.*
I've earned it. I cut way back on the cheesy tots (I heard you gasp!), exercised 27 times in the last 29 days (I KNOW, right? I'm the buffest 80-something you'll ever meet), saved my pennies, actually completed a few things at work, and now? I'm done. Outta here. Sayonara. Bedee-bedee-bedee, that's all folks!
What can I leave you with to chew on?
How about Five Truths About Air Travel:
- The person in front of you in line at the ticket/baggage counter will have 40 bags, and will speak no English. They will not understand what the agent is saying, with increasing volume, about additional charges and weight limits.
- No matter what seat you choose while waiting at the gate, there will be someone facing directly at you, barking into their cell phone. They will have nothing of consequence or interest to say. Yet, they will say it. For half an hour. They will pretend you are not giving them the "I hope you don't make it to the future" stare.
- On the plane, a passenger will come along and open the already closed overhead bin above your head. "Just to check."
- Upon landing, when the stewardess asks everyone to keep their seat-belts on until the plane has come to a full stop and the captain indicates that it's safe to move about the cabin, there will be the sound of tiny clicks all over the cabin as every single person unfastens his/her seat-belt.
- After taxiing, there will be some idiot that leaps up as soon as the bell dings and runs to the front of the aisle, only to wait another fifteen minutes with everyone else until the door opens.****
Miss me! Of course, I will be spending every minute of vacation trying to think of clever things to blog about for you.
* Please don't rob me.**
** If you do come by, be sure and give Brucie, our pit bull, a big hug from us. He loves to snuggle.***
*** Oh, and if you have to take something, please, please, please don't take the highly-valuable-via-resale-on-Ebay rock CDs from the early 70s that my husband--er, we love so.
They're in the family room.
On the right.
Next to the TV.
Top two shelves.
Don't take those.
****That idiot might be me.