Yes, I had almost 2 whole weeks off for the first time in about 4 years and I loved it. I forgot the simple joy of doing nothing. Well, I slept. I mean I slept hard. I slept so hard, I'd wake up like Kyle Reese: kinda sweaty, uncertain of the year and convinced that I had to battle a cyborg for the fate of humanity (that's a Terminator reference for those who are weak in the 80s and if you're weak in the 80s, why are you here? Seriously, go get in a time machine and go back to 1981 and bask in the World's last golden era).
Anyway, vacation is over as I returned to a life of fighting Clutter this week. I needed the break after going toe to toe with the Messiest Home in the Country (spoiler alert: I kicked its ass by smashing it in a hydraulic press as its cold robotic arm reached for my throat and I said, "You're terminated, clutter." (See above reference))
But I do have a souvenir from my fortnight of languid indolence... a beard. No, not a beard in the sense of Katie Holmes, just a regular, ol scruffy testament to the lack of grooming that occurs when I truly relax. So here it is, my last reminder of a simpler time without alarm clocks or purpose:
The beard has also come in handy as I've been playing some Red Dead Redemption lately. I feel like Clint Eastwood on my couch.
