vacation.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
I realized on Wednesday of last week that if I don't go to a European
country that has a beach for at least a week, I may just die. Not
really, but internally I may go a little cuckoo. The last time I went to
Italy was the summer before I began my senior year of college, and the
escape from reality, from work, technology, real life-- not only put me
back on track but left me with a sense of calm and the feeling that I was ready to take on the
world when I returned home. Right now the weekends fly by far too fast
to get anything but errands in and the weeks fly by so quickly that very
few hours of sleep are possible. All I keep thinking
of is the beach, the warmth of the Italian sun, wiping sand off of my
legs, and the feeling that I, yet again, cannot believe where I am.
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