From the land of exhaustion.

The Sand Man and I aren't on speaking terms these days. He says I don't pay him enough attention. I tell him I'm busy, take a number, boy.

That being said, I guess it's no surprise that when the plane shoved off from New York to Florida on Friday, I was hit with an onset of exhaustion. It was an exhaustion build-up that kicked me in the face the second New York and I parted ways. I thought this weekend in Sarasota would cure this non-alcohol-induced life hangover (Let me be more correct and say not-entirely-alcohol-induced life hangover), but here I am again, back on the plane, stressed out, heavy-eyed and energyless.

Such lack of strength can be a compilation of too much work, too much play, too much running on top of shin splits, drinking on top of hangovers (this time I do mean alcohol-induced) and dancing on top of bars. Kidding, but I couldn't think of another "on top".

(real life interjection: I totally just had the flight attendant deliver me a single dose packet of aspirin)

Anyways this just goes to show how easy it is to get caught up in New York City. I'd been going and going, more reluctant to stop than the energizer bunny, and like that same energizer bunny, didn't realize what a disruptive toll the going and going was taking. It was only until I hard stopped the noise that I realized how loud it was in the first place.

And three days in paradise is no band-aid.

This weekend was supposed to reunite me and the Sand Man, but no such luck. We are still on the outs, but for good reason (summary weekend post to come, stay tuned). And though I'd like to say I'm going to make an honest attempt to quiet down, my company is on rapid fire and my entire address book is making their way to the city in the coming weekends for either a visit or a "permanent" move. Btw, did anyone look into a group travel discount?

Either way, I welcome all with open arms, weak arms, but none the less, open.