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68 Days and Counting
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I was challenged to count the days until vacation. I think it's 68 days, roughly two months and a week. Once I had my passport in my hand, it began to feel like a reality, not seem like a pipe dream.

Having something great to look forward to (who, me? end a sentence a preposition with?) makes the daily drudgery much easier to get through (specializing in end-of-sentences prepositions of).

I can slog through anything, if there's an end in sight (or if not in sight, in hope). I'll get frantic only if I feel I'm trapped, with no way out -- ever.

Speaking of no end in sight, I just looked at my "To Do" list for tomorrow. It's longer than it was at the beginning of the day this morning. What am I doing wrong?

Early sign on tomorrow, 5:30 a.m. *yawn* The cats will have a conniption at being disturbed so early, rousted out just after settling down from a good night's romp with the mice. Poor things.

Time to go home and make dinner and collapse into a puddle of protoplasm. Later!

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