Adventure is out there

I have learned that you can only handle working so many 70 hour weeks in a row before you find yourself flying across the country and running around yelling "paid time off! paid time off!" in a city you've never been to (if you think I didn't really do this, jokes on you). 

In the last month and some change, I have traveled to: Indianapolis, Chicago, Nashville, Atlanta, Cleveland, Bowling Green, St. Louis, and Portland (Oregon, not Maine), not to mention Cincinnati/ Northern Kentucky and Louisville too many times to count.

Portland was the best because it wasn't for work, I didn't have to drive there and I also did not have to chaperone a charter bus full of college students.  It was also the best because there is a Tom there, and an Emilie there, and they are stand-up people.

Exhibit A: Macarons were waiting for me at the airport.  MACARONS THE SIZE OF MY FACE (or, more accurately, my hand). 

 

Supply me with macarons, get mentioned in my blog.

To reiterate: supply me with macarons, get mentioned in my blog.

 



Other things to note about Portland: No sales tax.  Illegal to pump your own gas.  Flights of anything you can imagine... wine, beer, icecream.  A gal's dreams come true.  Have you bought your ticket yet?

 

 

Tom, too, likes flights.

 

 As little as I complain about my work schedule (hahahaha), I really don't like working so much.  I like sleeping and eating grilled cheese and wearing hot pink (really more like magenta) dresses and meandering through gigantic book stores and eating Thai street food with friends and watching Chopped and reading "Love Does" by Bob Goff and lunching on rooftops.  I did all of those things on vaca, and they were pretty stinking great.  Note that food gets a lot of honorable mentions.

 

I bought this copy of "Abolition of Man" at Powell's

for twice what the book originally sold for,

because I liked the cute inscription.

 

There's nothing like a good vacation, being sick after said vacation, and feeling the glee of chanting "Paid time off!" to remind you that we were not made to work 70 hours a week.  You weren't, I wasn't, let's not. :)

 

ONLY 42 DAYS UNTIL THE NEXT VACATION: DISNEY.