Vacation-time coming up and I'm already worried.
There will be boredom and restlessness and I need to plan against it. I'm stocking up on books (in my own two languages, for relaxation) and magazines (in another language, for linguistic studies) and photos (to sort out) and sports bras (for beachvolley) and limoncello (well, for consumption) and tips on fun summer events around here (for consideration) and addresses to the best flea markets within a hundred mile radius (for shopping) and good music (for enjoyment and something to talk to my teenage nephews about) and nail polish (for bare toes) and patience (for family get-togethers) and cider (for balcony cider evenings with my balcony cider buddy) and borrowed poodles (for company).
I feel it won't be enough. I'll add episodes of House M.D. (for desperate times).
And now I feel like a shallow whiner. What I really should do is go rescue drowning orphans out of the Mediterranean.
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