After a few days of sleeping, sleeping, and sleeping some more (okay, I didn’t only sleep. I also watched Timecop and Clueless – twice) in a house on a lake in Virginia, I am back. Strangely, I do not feel ‘rested’ or ‘relaxed’ or any of those things I’ve heard ‘vacations’ are supposed to make you feel. I’ll pretend I don’t mind.

We got stuck in traffic for multiple hours about 15 miles from the tunnel into Virginia. A good part of that time was spent on a bridge, me silently freaking out because it was a very tall bridge.

We got to the house, and I was introduced to the following room, where I spent the next few nights sleeping, trying to ignore the decor (that’s a fun rhyme, isn’t it?):

And that’s about all I have to say about that. Upon my return, I ventured to where I typically venture when I am not at home and watched The Mist, had a couple of “Oh my God”s about the fantastic, but possibly overacted ending (I say possibly because I have not yet convinced myself that it was. It might’ve been. Ask someone else) and ate some wings. Wings. Wings?

Today it was back to the grind. People in cars on the wrong side of the highway, the chiropractor, missing cash, a car that doesn’t respond to the gas pedal and a very messy desk at work.

What more could a person ask for?