After ten blissful days enjoying sunshine and warmth near the equator, my return home has left me a bit... grouchy. Disappointed. Depressed.
It doesn't help that upon our return winter finally decided to peek its ugly fucking head in on Colorado. I'm not kidding when I say that I want to curl up in the fetal position, under four blankets, IN the fireplace. It is crazy fucking cold. And nothing goes worse with my new tan than red cheeks, blue lips and skin that has dried to such a degree one might confuse my hands with those of an Andean ice mummy.
Yes, the cruise was possibly the best family vacation we ever took, and more than a little peeved that my Indian manservant, John (I'm not sure that was his real name...), no longer brings me bloody mary's in the morning and fruity deliciousness in the afternoon and glasses of wine all through the night. I miss my little on-board trainer, Peter, with his upbeat lisp and ballerina thighs and Australian accent.
Excuse me, my nose is running it is so fucking cold.