Hello, lovely readers. I have finally returned from my extended vacay. I would love to think that droves of people will be scurrying to their computer to read this, but the 2 or 3 die-harders will do just fine. Anyways, my 2-week trip was glorious. Macon, Savannah, Orlando, Tampa.. a fun time was had by all, if i do say so myself. Sure, south Georgia and central Florida both proved to be hotter than the hottest realms of...well, you know..and the humidity was nearly unbearable, however, the weather (almost) went unnoticed, seeing as I had the time of my life.
Of course, anything that i am involved in HAS to have SOME sort of adventure to it, whether it be beneficial/ good for me or not.. in this case, most adventures were good - shopping was wonderful, Mickey and Minnie are doing great, and of course, time with my family and best friends were priceless.
However, there were a few things that made me question my very sanity. The heat, for instance. Ok, Florida in July is my version of Chinese water torture. There were a few points during the week that i was PRETTY sure that my time on earth had come to a swift end. The worst was when I decided to wear jeans to an outdoor outlet mall. In Orlando. In July. Dumb. Another "adventure" (this is totally a misfortune on my part, but why be a Debbie-Downer) was when I thought, for the better part of an hour, that my car had been stolen from the Atlanta airport...
So...one of my best friends (that went on fam vacay with us) drove my car back to Georgia because of a previous engagement. Since I stayed a few extra days, he parked it at the airport and told me the exact location so that I could go right to it once my flight got in. Yeah, not so much. (Let me just precursor the next part of the story with this: my right nostril was completely clogged, my ears were stopped up, I was hot and i was exhausted...) Anyways, I walk outside, go to the parking lot, and ask the attendant where I can find the lot/ row that my car was in. After being told 2 different things, i finally manage to find the correct level, lot, and row...only to find that my car wasn't there. After calling my friend to quadruple check everything, losing my composure and all control of my emotions in the middle of baggage claim while on the phone with my mom, wandering the parking lot that my car was allegedly in like a lost puppy for 15 minutes, losing my composure again outside on the curb with my friend that is desperately trying to figure out how to tell me where my car is, and asking at LEAST 298 airport workers where to go and what to do, it finally hits me that i'm in the wrong parking lot... I don't know if YOU have realized this by now, but I need my own TV show...
Sweet dreams, dearies!
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