In preparation for my trip tomorrow, I've been working seven days a week, minimum 16-hour days for the past four weeks. To say I'm exhausted would be a gross understatement. I feel like I'm about dead... or at least severely broken. Of course, the cure for that is to spend 18 hours on three flights beginning at 6:00am. Which, by a happy coincidence, is exactly what I'm doing.
It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to set my alarm clock for 3:30am to make it to the airport on time.
With that in mind, I hope you'll forgive me if I beg-off blogging tonight and turn-in for bed instead...
Now if I could only get rid of this strange craving for tacos, I might be able to actually get some sleep tonight. Don't you just hate it when you've got tacos on the brain?