I saw a story online a few days ago titled "How to survive spring break." It had all sorts of helpful hints for families traveling with young children as well as sensible lotions and potions that will help you develop your deep dark tan, please whomever you've hooked up with, and even cure a hangover.
But it had absolutely nothing to help me—one of the poor souls who is in desperate need of assistance in surviving spring break. Because when you have nowhere to go and nothing to do, you'll feel incredibly pathetic and sorry for yourself.
My office mate has mentioned about every 12 minutes at work every day for the past month the trip she is taking to Mexico. She's sprawled out in a chaise lounge, as I write this, soaking up rays and sipping strong, umbrella'd drinks brought to her by cabana boys named Enrique and Diego.
Sigh...
Our office manager just got back from South Padre Island, TX. A couple of students I recently interviewed said they were spending their spring break in Central America. Sandy beaches, warm surf, and college credit?! Perhaps I should go back to school.
My girlfriends and I had our spa getaway this weekend. No details—we agreed that "What happens in the big city, stays in the big city." :-) But now I'm back at home, thinking about the week ahead and lamenting the fact that I will be wearing sweaters and hats and gloves all week, as The Weather Channel (oh bane of my existence) tells me it won't get past 45 for a high the entire week. Who knows when I'll get to wear the new dress I bought on a lark at the mall yesterday, feeling buoyed by the new phrase we all adopted for the weekend, "It's all about me." The dress, a gorgeous sleeveless white-with-pale-embroidered-flowers number, and accompanying pale green cardigan (along with the cutest matching tan canvas and green leather single-band slides...sorry, getting carried away...) just SCREAMS spring.
Too bad that stupid groundhog, and his meteorologist compadres, didn't get the memo.
If you'd like to commiserate with me, gimme a call tomorrow.
I'll be at work.
But it had absolutely nothing to help me—one of the poor souls who is in desperate need of assistance in surviving spring break. Because when you have nowhere to go and nothing to do, you'll feel incredibly pathetic and sorry for yourself.
My office mate has mentioned about every 12 minutes at work every day for the past month the trip she is taking to Mexico. She's sprawled out in a chaise lounge, as I write this, soaking up rays and sipping strong, umbrella'd drinks brought to her by cabana boys named Enrique and Diego.
Sigh...
Our office manager just got back from South Padre Island, TX. A couple of students I recently interviewed said they were spending their spring break in Central America. Sandy beaches, warm surf, and college credit?! Perhaps I should go back to school.
My girlfriends and I had our spa getaway this weekend. No details—we agreed that "What happens in the big city, stays in the big city." :-) But now I'm back at home, thinking about the week ahead and lamenting the fact that I will be wearing sweaters and hats and gloves all week, as The Weather Channel (oh bane of my existence) tells me it won't get past 45 for a high the entire week. Who knows when I'll get to wear the new dress I bought on a lark at the mall yesterday, feeling buoyed by the new phrase we all adopted for the weekend, "It's all about me." The dress, a gorgeous sleeveless white-with-pale-embroidered-flowers number, and accompanying pale green cardigan (along with the cutest matching tan canvas and green leather single-band slides...sorry, getting carried away...) just SCREAMS spring.
Too bad that stupid groundhog, and his meteorologist compadres, didn't get the memo.
If you'd like to commiserate with me, gimme a call tomorrow.
I'll be at work.
Comments
I, however, can send you a link...
http://www.coldwatercreek.com/aspx/product.aspx?np=true&channel=1&productId=21696&deptId=1&ensembleId=22743