This past weekend was my first girls' weekend getaway since the kids were born, and it was well overdue and much needed. The problem is, I can't seem to get my brain to get back into gear now that I am home and am expected to work. It's as if my brain turned into a bowl of goo while I let it relax. That'll teach me to drink margaritas (sweet, sweet nectar...) on the beach at sunset.
See, when that happens and the brain goes into full mush mode, you are unable to do simple things like--oh, I don't know--go to the correct gate for your connecting flight. And then you find yourself seeing downtown Atlanta whiz by while your sweeter-than-that-sweet-tea-stuff-they-serve-down-south friends take you in for the night so you don't have to sleep at the airport. Or something like that. Not that it happened to me, of course. Just a warning to those who might be travelling this spring. {ahem}
And the kids survived, but they were none too happy with me gone for so long...Actually, in that picture they had just finished a lively percussion piece played on the table and did not like the intrusion of the pappa-razzi. Get it? Pappa? Yeah, I'll just shut up about now.
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