At this point in this rather bizarre "winter," with no snow days in sight and no February vacation on the horizon, I am ever so grateful that I have plans-- and plane tickets--to be in sunny California in April (where Jill still insists I should move). I'm flying into San Diego to spend the first few days with her, then I will move on to Los Angeles, to spend a few days with my cousins Lisa and Joanne and their families and will fly home from there.
Between now and then I have nine weeks to get through. Some of that time I'll spend doing not-so-pleasant things--like correcting lab reports, maybe dealing with another lunatic parent (more on that in my memoir, or maybe a future post), getting blood drawn and going to a doctor's appointment--but I know I will have some fun along the way, too. I have been reading three really good books (at the same time!...so unlike me to do that) and playing words with friends every night. I have some dinner plans coming up, Lord & Taylor is having a sale (and I have a coupon), and I figure Boston will beckon once or twice.
But chances are what I'll mostly be doing these next nine weeks is counting down the days till I can pack my bags and get away from it all. California, I can't get there fast enough.