My friends are the loveliest people. Really, you'd think they'd just found out I have some sort of terminal illness. I love you guys, but I'm okay really. Oh, and to whomever posted that comment on my last post as Gg: well done. Either Gg is lurking my blog more than a year later, which would tickle me, or one of you out there really loves me. It made me laugh.
I am officially on vacation. I am going to drink too much and play in the snow and sleep in and spend some time with some great people and research grad programs and wander around Philly and read and just generally try to be lazy and happy. We have a new home fragrance at work that smells like jasmine and seagrass. It smells like Florida in the springtime. I've been feeling kind of homesick lately. I miss waking up early, the breeze through the open windows, the cold tile floor, walking out barefoot in the grass to water my flowers, my candy-striped bathing suit, the smell of suntan lotion, the long drive out to the island with one of my best ladies with all the windows down, sing-along songs, the heavy sweetness of orange blossoms in the air, soft serve ice cream with rainbow sprinkles, white sand, cool clear turquoise water, the way my skin would get so hot. I want to go home. Maybe I'll use my flight credit for that.
Also, I had a dream last night that I lived in a little cottage in the woods with a dalmatian named Dot, a bunny named Beatrix, a sheep named Elsie, and a baby girl named June. I think she was mine. It was a lovely dream.
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