Reefer Madness

In less than 19 hours, we'll be ensconced on a plane, heading to a small island off the South Central (geography was never
my strong suit) American shore. I hope the Mayan Princess is ready for a boatload of queens.

It looks like I'm going to have to break one of my cardinal rules of going away and take work with me. I used to get so upset with L. when he'd take work on holiday, but the tables have turned. I'm overloaded and now understand you can't just always flip the switch and say "screw 'em, it will all have to wait."

Alas, it won't be too horrible ... just some writing and editing projects that I've fallen behind on during the past few weeks of neverending meetings.

The only meeting rooms I'll have to visit for the next week are on the reefs. And the fishies ... well they're not so clever with leaving voicemails, droning on incessantly about mindless and mind-numbing monotony, or sending last-minute requests for information that shouldn't have been asked for in the first place. All is well.

I got a new gadget to take with me (shocking), so maybe we'll have some fun pictures to share once I get back.

Back in NY next Saturday for a quick 2-hour layover (during which I'm very excited to meet him), then it's another fun week of "Where in the World is Bobzyeruncle?"

Not sure what Internet access is like down there, so I'll leave you in the capable and (we hope) witty hands of my sister Karen and her friend Nancy ... the happy midwestern moms who so graciously offered to pawn off let me spoil their darling children.

Now, where's my certification card?