While Bill is at home dealing with the usual Manor drama (leaking hot water heater, basement flooded from the recent torrential downpours, a kid who gives herself black eyes by smacking her face on the table after being reminded copious times to sit on her bottom so she doesn't fall), I have taken myself away.
Last week I was in San Diego, where I was originally scheduled to be working with a client. Unfortunately, the training was cancelled but my very complicated flight plans meant I had to go spend the week there anyway. Normally I would have jumped at a chance to have a free week in Southern California, but it was just bad timing this time around.
All if which leads me to today, my 36th birthday. And I'm spending it here.
I'm in Thailand for the week, ostensibly for work although I suspect I'll be hitting that pool every evening. I'm sort of obligated, since the weather report isn't exactly screaming "business attire."
I am eating dinner alone tonight at the hotel, enjoying authentic (spicy) pad Thai and a slightly questionable Pinot Grigio. I've promised myself to make it to 8pm before I crash. All this birthday girl wants is to crawl between the sheets early.