I like three-day weekends. In fact, I should say weekend. Cause it's probably the only one I'll get. Also, editor man goes on vacation next week, which means, every sports writer for themselves! Oh wait, it's just me. Plus I've got to work ahead to get my outdoors story done for the following week, when I finally. Get. Vacation. Time.
For now, enjoy what we enjoyed over Memorial Day weekend. Which totally screwed up my schedule for work this week.
Now let's play a fun game: How rich are these people, and how badly do you want to have a vacation home just like this? All overlooking the ocean, people.
Sigh. How do people make this much money? Clearly, I'm in the wrong business. Actually, I don't want a house that big. I just want a house. You know, one that doesn't share walls with other people. One that doesn't share a cramped parking lot. One that isn't directly across from yet another apartment complex that's getting remodeled, and very loudly I might add. One that I can PAINT. And DECORATE. And one that has a porch and a backyard and a basement and a garage and a grill and a dog.
This apartment was an upgrade, definitely. But I grow tired of apartment life. Restless. Itching for spring cleaning. I fear it will be many years before we can afford a house.